Carla Y. Nix

Walking In My Purpose


Posted by hashiki on November 14, 2008

Growing up, my family traveled quite a bit because my father was in the Navy.  Whenever we were stationed to a new location, we always drove.  I remember our longest trip being cross country – from California to Virginia.  We stopped along the way in Louisiana, where all of my parents’ family lived.  New Orleans, to be exact.

In between the relocations, we often drove back “home” for visits.  New Orleans was always home for us. No matter where else we lived in this country, we knew where home was.  So, when Daddy retired after 20 years of service to the Navy, we finally settled back at home.  Yep, home.  I wasn’t even born in New Orleans, but it is my home.  I was 12 years old when we moved there permamently.  So, coupled with my parents always instilling in us a sense of home and kinship to New Orleans, it is the only real home I’ve known for most of my life.

Well, all of you who know me know my story.  Home for me was shattered and lost once Hurricane Katrina roared her head August 29, 2005. 

It has not been easy adjusting to a new location, however, I know that I will not ever go back to New Orleans to live.  I know that home is where I make it, and it is not necessarily a location.  Rationally, I know that.  It’s my heart that is still having a hard time accepting that.

I think that over the last year or so, I have really been feeling “lost” because I still feel like a fish out of water.  I am existing, I’m living, I’m surviving, yet I still have this uneasiness in me that continues to ask, “Are we there yet?”  A question we would ask as children as we were traveling in our station wagon going from place to place when Daddy was in the Navy.  I still do not feel that I have arrived.  I feel like a wanderer in many ways.

There are a number of factors that make me feel that way.  One being that I am so different from people around here (I’m still in the South, but trust me, Mississippi is definitely different from what I’m used to.  Especially here in the “country”).  That in and of itself is not all that bad.  Because my rational mind knows it’s a different place, I really don’t expect for things to be the same.  What gets to me is that others see me as different, and they’re trying to figure me out.  I guess I shouldn’t care, but I do.

Another factor is that this is the first time in my life that I am in a place where I am alone.  I have no family of my own here.  I love my in-laws, but it’s different.  They’re different.  I’m different.  And I MISS seeing my own people.  I miss being with them. 

It hit me today that if something should happen to my husband (God forbid), then my daughter and I would be alone.  If I wanted to leave, I would have nowhere to go.  At least, I wouldn’t have home to return to because home is no longer.  Where would I go?  I have no idea!

I’ve never had that feeling, or awareness before.  It’s never been a concern.

I’m hearing the song “Motherless Child” in my head.  Hearing the words, “a long way from home”.  But, the scariest part is that not only a long way from home, I don’t know what to call home anymore because I don’t know where it is.

Maybe I’m putting too much into this because in actuality, I am so thankful for, and love, this place that God has blessed us with.  I love this house, and it is our home.  And I’m happy in it.  It is OUR home.

Why then am I so conflicted and still wonder if we are there yet?



One Response to “ARE WE THERE YET?”

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