Where peace is at

A few years ago my estranged husband, when he wasn't estranged, and I were talking about the continuing conflict in Israel. He said if the people of Fritz Creek and the people of the Russian village on out the road were warring with each other, he'd pack up and move from our chunk of land.

I didn't say anything, but deep down, I was thinking, I wouldn't. This is my home. This is more than a place to stay, it's my home. I wasn't sure what that meant at the time, but it was a feeling that meant something to me.

I've spent a little over a year roaming the state of Alaska in an attempt to find peace.

I've known for a while where it's at.

Yesterday I found it exactly where I knew I would.

It came in small steps. The first step was when I drove toward the airport and realized something. I was able to see Juneau. It had been months since I'd seen Juneau in the light of day.

Once I was on the plane and headed toward Anchorage, something happened within me. I could feel myself relaxing. Not a huge relaxation, but a small one. For the first time in my life I looked at Anchorage and saw the beauty there. I could see. Not only was it day light, but I could see more than a mountain shoved in my face. I could see for miles and miles and miles. I stood outside the airport soaking up the view. The clouds didn't bother me. The drizzle wasn't a problem. I could see. I could finally see what was in the distance.

I could have stayed there and been perfectly content.

But a few hours later I was on another plane. A much smaller plane. As we crossed TurnAgain, the wind whipped us around. It was scary, but in the distance I saw what I've been missing. The Kenai Peninsula. Home. The place that captured my heart almost a decade and hasn't let go.

Once the Kenai Peninsula was beneath us it happened. Silent tears fell. Not tears of sorrow, but of joy. I refused to think about when I'd have to leave again. All I cared about was the beautiful land beneath the plane.

Each air mile was as familiar to me as my heartbeat. It was Contentment with a capital C.

When we flew over Tustamena Lake I looked out my window toward the glacier. It reminded me how small and insignificant Mendanhall Glacier and Lake really are. More tears fell. I saw the area from the fire. I remembered the fire. I smelled the smoke from the fire.

Finally, after over a year of roaming, I was back in a place where I knew the history. A place where it's history and mine are intertwined.

Then she was before. Homer. More tears of pure joy.

A week ago I didn't plan to be here on my vacation. A week ago I had other plans. But this place is where I needed to come.

What it's done for me is more than anything or anyone else ever could. It's reminded me where my heart really is.

It's here in Homer. It's the land that is half mine. It's not one person, it's many people. It's my community of Homer.

This morning I got up and walked into town. I'm not sure how far of a walk it was, but it was a great walk. I took in so much of the scenary that I've missed over the last year.

This afternoon I finally came out to see what I came back to see. My home. My land. The place where I will build my home.

I'm sitting in the house where I used to live right now. The dogs are running around. It's like they sense a difference in me. This time I'm not anxious or waiting to see what's out there that I've missed.

I know what I've missed. I've missed my life.

My estranged husband and I are not going to reconcile. He's happy by himself and I'm happy by myself. And the truth is, there's room for both of us on seven plus acres.

I don't know when I'll be able to come back and stay for good, but I hope it's sooner rather than later. I really hope it is.

I miss my home. But while I'm home, I'm going to enjoy every second of it.

I went to Bishop's Beach today and walked it. I went to the spit and walked along the beach there. I've done more walking today than I have in months. But it's day light and I'm thrilled to be awake during the day and seeing my home.

Sorry to ramble. But seeing the Kenai Mountains, Kachemak Bay and the glaciers feeds my spirit. It's what attracted me to Homer in the first place. Nothing has changed about them. But after calling Homer home for so many years, I have the added benefit of knowing the people of Homer and calling them friends.

It's great to be home.