Little by little we have transitioned back to our lives in Michigan from Texas. This week was an important step. We were finally able to close our bank account in Texas., the last legal/financial tie that we still held there.

On a lesser note, my secondary Facebook page, Texan Not Texan has changed names. It’s now known as Back to the Woods, since it better describes where we now live. It’s a small thing really, more psychological than of any importance. We were never really “Texan” despite living there, just as we are not, and never will be, “Bainers”, the unofficial nickname of people who were born in McBain and have grown up or lived here all their lives. But we are Michiganders, me by birth and my wife by adoption, and we fully belong here.

The one part of Texas that will always remain with us are the people we came to know and love while we were there. Texans have a certain reputation-most everyone everywhere does in one way or another. What we found was what we had known for some time- Christians, no matter where they live, are family, and although we may sometimes rub each other the wrong way, we still love each other. The only regret Rita and I have about Texas is not being able to spend time with our “family” there, to laugh, hug, and sometimes cry with each other.

But we feel very much at “home” right where we are at the moment. It’s a place we’ve never lived before, even though it is. The drive out of town takes us past rolling hills, farms, horses and cows, wind turbines that stand like giants on the landscape. Although the landscape is a little different and the town smaller than any we’ve called home, it is still distinctly Michigan. With a few exceptions we can have everything we need within a few miles, and a drive to our previous home town takes care of the rest.

There is a regularity to life here that carries its own comfort. The train comes by once or twice a day and you hear it coming before you see it. The weather the past few days has been warmer than usual, and rainy, but the leaves are starting to turn and it won’t be long until fall is in full swing. A dozen or so sparrows, and a couple of pairs of doves, show up on our back patio after we dump a cup of birdseed out in the morning. We get together with our old neighbors every couple of weeks or so to visit and play card games. We are slowly reconnecting with the area and getting back into synch with the rhythms of northern Michigan. It’s a comfortable way of life, one that reminds us of what’s important and the only things that will remain when everything else is gone.

There is a comfort in living where the pace matches your own, a place that you can feel in your soul, a place that’s familiar enough to bring back pleasant memories, a place that’s the gateway to be able to travel and revisit other places that let you know you’re exactly where you belong, You can see it in people as they describe their hometown, where they grew up, or a favorite place; they glow as they tell you about it, and you know that they’re talking about “their” place. For us that’s Michigan, and to have one last chance to be “at home” is priceless.