Home Sick

Have you ever been homesick? It sounds kind of silly I've lived in Utah for most of my life -- but if you were to ask me where I'm from I'll reply "Indian Head" or "Saskatchewan". I'm from this little tiny town of about 1,500 people. I can close my eyes and see the streets -- before the four way stop with the blinky light was put in.

When I was small I walked all over town -- without shoes, my big toes were always stubbed and bleeding. My Nana Price lived three or so blocks from my Granny Price and I would make my way there alone the summer I was 3. Everyone knew me and to me they were all my adopted Grandma/pa's or Aunts and Uncles. I didn't know what a stranger was.

There is a tiny 12 bed hospital that I was born and later that my Granny and Grandpa Price died in. The nursing home is down the street from my Granny and Grandpa Price's house where my Nana spent her last year. There is a huge cemetery where several generations of both sides of my family are buried. There are two tiny grocery stores, a bakery, bank, credit union, and a couple of small restaurants along with the Co-op.

Things move at a different pace there -- you have time to check in on your neighbor, sit in the yard, and go to the hockey game. There doesn't seem to be the rush of being here and there --

For part of our honeymoon (September 1993) Charles and I went to Indian Head -- My grandparents knew we were there before we made it the six blocks from the highway to their street -- Someone saw a strange car with Utah plates and phoned them. Granny and Grandpa greeted us in the drive. They hugged us so tight -- Oh how I love and miss them. We spent five days there between the Price home and my Dad and Grandma Dixon's farm. We went to the city and I introduced Charles to some of the foods that had sounded so strange to him. There was even a small open house for us. People who had known me as a baby and small child brought us gifts to remind us of my roots -- A wheat wedding knot, Hudson Bay wool blankets, Canadian pottery with farm scenes, a cookbook from the local Catholic Parish -- What I remember most is the feeling of love and good wishes.

Most people work in Regina -- the "big city". My co-workers snicker at the name "Regina" -- more than once someone has choked when I explain that Regina is the provincial capital. Others like my dad still farm-- very few family farms are still alive. Large commercial outfits buy or rent farm land. Fifteen years ago the Dixon family was one of the last original settlers to still own and work their land that was deeded from Queen Victoria.

I don't know that I could live in a place like Indian Head -- the closest McDonalds is 40 miles away along with the Costco, Wal-Mart and all of the other places I find necessary to live my life. There is an LDS branch on the Reserve (here we would call it an Indian Reservation) 15 miles away. The last time I was there it was just a 1970's single wide trailer converted for Sacrament services -- so different from being here in Utah with our large buildings.

I haven't been home since December 2000. My Granny and Grandpa Price have passed away, as has Grandma Dixon and Uncle Henry. My Dad only knows my boys from pictures and phone calls. Sydney was just a baby when we were there last. Dad out on the farm, Auntie Janice lives in Indian Head, Auntie Heather in Qu'Appelle, with a few cousins here and there. I can't forget my Auntie Roberta or Cousin Cathy. These are the people who have helped make me who I am. One thing I do know for sure is that this summer I need to go home. It is time to reconnect with my roots.