Michigan was pwned.

Having the nephew visit for several days helped a lot in making this place start to feel like "home." At a basic level, he filled the place with giggles and squeals and destruction, but what it brought was a slew of memories that now make this apartment more than temporary lodging for the two of us.


Like when he'd come downstairs in the morning, hair tousled, with a smile on his face and asking about breakfast or the Muppets. Or curled up on the couch watching Star Wars. Asking to wash the dishes. Sitting in the car watching the deer cross the road (in the crosswalk, no less), or singing a hodgepodge of songs as he runs back and forth pretending to be a bee. These are the sort of memories that personalize a home, make it feel like it's ours, not just furniture in a room.


Neffie's imprint really changed the place. Made it feel warm, and silly, and full. At one point we brought him and my brother for a short tour of Arthur's department building, so Neffie could see the school that is the reason why we moved. And he ran up and down the hallways and was looking around corners and now, when it's a cold, dark winter morning and Arthur is unenthusiastic about being out of bed and in class, he can picture a silly kid running around the hallways bringing laughter and squeals.


But it also helped us look at it with new eyes. He saw the whole trip as a big adventure. Airplane! Michigan! New house! We've been looking at everything in terms of how different it is (how flat, and white, and oy! the politics), and how much we miss home. But to a small child, Michigan doesn't seem any different than Massachusetts. (Unlike, say, New Mexico or California.) On the flight here, he asked if he was in Michigan yet. Because there was no magic moment of "I am somewhere different".


And that's a refreshing approach. We're now more aware of how similar Michigan is, how it does feel mostly like home (physically), and it's not that strange. Huh. We're further west, sure, but we're still part of the Industrialized East, as Skyler once pointed out. The trees are the same. It still snows. Rocks are the same colors. Aside from the UP, water is the same color. It all looks the same.


---

It was a fun visit, and helped center us. It's quiet and lonely here with him gone, but there's still a ghostly remnant of giggles in the air.


And we're having more houseguests later this semester. The more friends that visit, the more memories that are made, the more laughter that rings, all help to make this feel like somewhere real, rather than just a hotel detour.

Re-entry is hard.

It was strange returning to Ann Arbor after two weeks back in Boston. It was strange being back in Boston after several months in Ann Arbor.


Neither place felt like home. Boston certainly felt familiar, and there were times when it felt like we'd never moved and things hadn't changed (most noticeably when chasing small niecephews around) and if we weren't careful, we'd find ourselves driving "home" to JP on autopilot.


But it's not truly home anymore. I still refer to it as "home," but there was nowhere that felt like mine. The apartment we lived in and personalized for 9 years is already a distant memory. Everything felt temporary.


It's still easy to fall into rhythms and routines, though. To know where everything is, to hop on and off the T without paying attention...


One moment of happiness was getting on the T and seeing a train full of diversity. Ann Arbor has been feeling so relentlessly white that just seeing a variety of faces again felt good. Felt comfortable.


We had a great time, though. Saw lots of you, made quick stops to our favorite places (man, did I need a Burdick's fix!), played some great new-to-us games, ate great food, and had plenty of time spoiling the niecephews. (Making Christmas cookies with the kids and the outlaws was a blast - a boisterous, sugar-filled blast. And my favorite moment is still the look of panic when we refreshed the NORAD Santa tracker (which Neffie immediately fell in love with) and told Neffie that Santa was crossing the ocean and would be in Boston soon. Never seen the kid run that fast before. In bed, lights out, no story, no nuthin' - just panic that Santa would skip him because he was still up. Talk about motivation! (And also, the Santa tracker is a wonderful introduction to geography. Highly recommended.))

---

We stocked up on some hard-to-find items while we were in Boston. I now have a variety of beans in my larder again! And I got to see my mountains, and Arthur got to see the ocean, and all was well with the world.

---

The drive east was long (weather; sheeting rain but luckily we were just ahead of the snow the whole way), but we were looking forward to being back in Boston and it didn't feel too bad. Also, it felt really, really good to cross back into Massachusetts and say "home of senator-elect Elizabeth Warren!".


Driving west was much more eventful, and felt much longer. Shortly after crossing into New York, our brakes died. Thankfully they gave out when we were in the parking lot at a rest stop (to switch drivers) and not 5 minutes sooner or 5 minutes later, going full speed on the Thruway in the snow. It's terrifying to think what would have happened had we not stopped right at that time.


So we had a detour while waiting for a tow truck and to have the brake line repaired. We arrived in Rochester late, cold, and tired. Felt bad about not having much time to actually visit with the hosting brother either direction. But not as bad as if our brakes had snapped whilst driving 75mph.


But the drive back felt longer anyway, even though the second day was actually the shortest. When we first made the drive in August, it was with a sense of adventure. When we headed east last month, it was with anticipation to see people and do things and take a break. But heading back here last week, driving for two days, just felt exhausting.


And when we arrived, it felt strange. The apartment felt like a hotel, not like home. It was vaguely familiar, but it wasn't comfortable. After only 2 weeks away. It's taking time to get back into the swing of things and remind myself that I live here.


Feeling adrift. Not sure how to fix it.

---

However, my brother is arriving soon with a very special package in tow. A weekend with the cute chaos leaving destruction in his wake will either make this place finally feel warm and homelike, or feel bereft and empty when he's left. We'll see. It could be what we need to finally feel grounded. Sharing our new life helps make it real.