Home is where you finally feel good

Whitney M.

March 25, 2010 - 11:45 AM

This break has been a dream. Although I haven't been able to sleep in as much as I wanted to because dog fostering requires early-morning potty trips, I had more time in the day to do practically nothing.

If you read my previous blog, you know that my dad and I started the term by visiting my mother, which, we are happy to say, lasted only about 24 hours.

After that, though, we didn't have many plans.

Collin worked for his mother every day during the break, building her four or five garden beds in their back yard.

So during the day, it was just me, the kitties, and the puppy. As you can imagine, this was a little dull. My two best friends had gone to more tropical climates for the break, so I didn't even have anyone to watch chick flicks with.

Instead of sitting around, I decided to spend almost all of my time with my dad. As a real estate appraiser, he drives all over the northwestern part of the state and the southwestern part of Washington assessing the value of homes. I have been helping him with this for years, so I was able to direct us using the Thomas guide, measure and sketch the houses, and shoot photographs of comparable home sales within the last six months.

After we accomplished our goals, Dad and I would head to lunch somewhere and by the evening we were taking pilates classes and playing tennis together.

This break was different somehow. I felt more respected by my father. When we talked, he took me seriously. When we played tennis, I was able to hold my own because I had taken a class last term-allowing us to be on more even footing while we played. It was wonderful to be able to spend this time with him. Usually, I feel too parented when I go home for breaks, but this break was nothing but comfortable. I even felt like I was "home."

We moved into the apartment that he lives in one month before I came to the U of O, meaning that dorm rooms and Eugene apartments started to feel more like home than anywhere in Portland.

But as I was dozing off for an afternoon nap, I opened my eyes and saw my towel hanging over my bedroom door, the light coming in from the living room, and my pets moving between my room and the rest of the apartment. It gave me that same feeling that I got when I was growing up and my mom would be cooking soup and grilled cheese for dinner while I dozed in the late afternoon.
Until then, I hadn't felt that way in that apartment. It's funny because now I am heading off to Europe for the summer and to Stanford in the fall-even less time at "home." Too, my dad has been thinking about moving to a house, one that belongs to him in his retirement that doesn't have Whitney's room to the left of the bathroom.

I guess that is okay. At least I was able to feel a sense of being home for a little while.