Tag: transitioning


Another winter day
Has come and gone away
In even Paris and Rome
And I wanna go home
Let me go home – Michael Bubke

My home is where my family is

It’s so hard to believe it has been one year since we bought our forever home. 365 days or a trip around the sun. That’s four seasons and all of us a year older. Our first Christmas in our new home. Our first flood.

I still am so very surprised how hard the move was for me. Moving is never easy for anyone. It’s stressful and exhausting. I had planned where everything would go and was so excited about creating a beautiful home that specifically had my style. Let me just say that nothing ended up how I planned.

I’ve replaced furniture, removed furniture or clutter and rehung pictures several times. I’m pretty close to being finished. What I should have done is move with what we had, lived in the house and then started creating our home. Hindsight as they say. I have a passion for the old and the quirky. I’m surrounded by old books, interesting and weird things but they really don’t matter that much I have learned.

It’s my family that makes my home. I come home for them not for the things I have collected. I’m very proud of our home but mostly because it’s a safe haven for our family.

The transition was very difficult. I think that is because I’m 52 and everything hurts these days. Also I have been learning to unmask and live an authentic autistic life. I have always struggled with transition. I arrive anywhere at least 30 minutes early to give myself a chance to create certain closure from where I was and be prepared for where I’m headed. I have always done this.

You can’t do that when moving house. The best I can do is leave my old house and never return. Now this places a large burden on my husband. Even after the removalist leaves, there are always things left behind. Pot plants, laundry items, garden shed stuff. So every time we have ever moved, my poor husband has been left with clearing out the last bits. I’m so grateful he has always done this and now we understand why.

Our new home is across the road from the train line. We expected we would acclimatise to the noise. Well I love it. The sound of trains for me is very comforting for a few reasons.

Our house is a quiet and peaceful house. We are a family of autistic or introverts. We respect each other’s needs for downtime and for not speaking too. I love the quiet, peace of our home. In fact bird life flourishes and will continue to do so as we plant more natives.

One of my earliest memories of childhood is from the time we lived in Biloela. I grew up in a safe home. I remember lying in bed (we moved to Brisbane when I was five) and hearing the train. I think it may have been cattle trains as the baying of cows is also a comforting sound. Not that I hear cows now. From my bedroom the sound of the trains is much quieter but so comforting. It takes me back to times of being loved, cared for and protected.

I’m home alone most week days. The sound of trains is a comfort for different reasons. I have always loved domestic sounds. A neighbour washing the dishes, a house being renovated, a lawn being mowed and of course trains. These sounds remind me of the suburban bustle and life outside my quiet home.

I remember a time when I was living in Sydney. One Sunday afternoon I could hear Glen Campbell singing Galveston from a very tinny transistor radio. I was overwhelmed with such feelings of homesickness. Not for home but family. That song and the sound of a lawnmower will forever remind me of my childhood. My Mum worked weekends and Dad was it for us. Fortunately Dad is a very good cook and always a great caring and supportive Father.

Our beautiful Queenslander

I love my home. I’m very proud of the beams and dreams. I’m very proud of our values and our hard work and fierce independence. It’s just a house though. My home will always be where my family is. They nourish my soul and are my safe harbour. They also protect me and keep me safe. They’ve seen me at my worst and get the very best of me also. It’s very easy to forget what truly matters at the moment. But in these difficult times, what truly matters is what will always be there for you.

My family - the people I wake up to and the people who I farewell before sleep.