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picture of the valley where I grew up

It's a long way from Clare to here
It's a long way from Clare to here
It's a long, long way
It get's further by the day
It's a long, long way from Clare to here

I've returned home (Austin) from home (Oregon) with the same heavy heart that travels with me every time. The same doubts about the choices I've made, thoughts that I could have done it differently, and maybe should have. Questions about how much of what I love about my life here could be transplanted back home. Questions about the set of values I've adapted to have, and whether the person who lives in my skin really is a country girl, really is a professional, really is an academic, really is a daughter, really is a mother.

And the overwelming sadness, and guilt, about every minute I miss. About being the one who left. It's different, with my far-flung friends--they left me at the same time I left them. My family, though, is right where I left them. In the same place, but not the same. Getting older, without me.

*"From Clare to Here," written by Ralph McTell, performed by Nanci Griffith

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April 2012

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