Sweet Home Kentucky
“Hold on, we’re in for a ride,” Daniel said as we left the Canadian border into America, two sweet fur babies in tow.
“You and me,” I said, excited for the adventure ahead. I was going to make this place my home.
My heart was filled entirely by anticipation and excitement. I was about to meet my new home, my forever home. Our family was to grow here in this new home. I wanted to taste every bit of all I have watched in TV and movies, the fast foods, the fine dining, the superstores, the horses, the mountains, the life in suburbia.
We drove for hours past lakes, through mountains and caverns we stopped to satisfy my longing to feel it all, experience every bit of my new home.
Cattle and horses lined the old country roads, as the Kentucky board fences kept cattle grazing on the soft rolling Kentucky hills. Old barns and wildflowers had me quite overcome. These beautiful lands were to be where I was to set root and grow.
Very quickly upon arriving in our new home in the Bluegrass, I planted the flowers in flower beds, like my neighbors did, mowed the lawn, we raised chickens in the back, grew vegetables in the summer. I hung a wreath on the front door as I saw my neighbors had. I learned to cook meatloaf, Mac and cheese from a box, biscuits from a can, pot roast in the crock pot, in case I would have American friends over. I wanted to fit in and be normal. The American friends took some time to find.
I realized that travel and adventures were different when I was meant to dig my feet into this soil, the loneliness set in. Making friends when I wasn’t working wasn’t an easy task. I did not have friends here in Kentucky. Longing for my home in Malaysia grew as I settled into the realization of the permanence of this move. A hole in my heart that was meant to be filled with American love and belonging.
It has been eight years since that day I left the Canadian border and I find myself in a view that has changed in its course. Our family has grown, now we have two little girls and they opened up a whole new world.
We met moms at preschool, at the library and music class and all the classes I took my children to. The kindness of those families made this home. Their jolly voices and screaming children filled these walls with joy I had been missing from the absence of family. My entire world lights up whenever we have them over, sharing in Malaysian cuisine or Cajun from my husband’s hometown. They assured me it was my dishes and flavors they were interested in. The flavors of my culture took over the room as they appreciated every bite. I found a pocket in which I did not need to pretend to be one of them, they found me and they were accepting and even eager to know more about me. They were all so colorful in personalities, I got to see the free American spirits in their personalities and conversation. Far from stereotypes I’d come to know from TV and movies. They were genuinely interesting and more so unapologetically genuine. I watched in fascination at first until their warmth captured me and I was at home. We were connecting and that shot a root into this Bluegrass soil.
Being creatures of habit and comfort, we visited the same restaurants and stores to shop at. There we found people who knew us by name, treated us like friends and kept up with my children. Some even gave them gifts on their birthdays and at Christmas. My children run into the chocolate store to find the staff they have become friends with and share hugs. I hold back tears, they will never know how much this means to me. Once not too long ago I loathed the saying “it takes a village” because that village did not exist for me. These strangers made a village for me , bolstering the void carved out of my heart from raising children away from my family. They have built me a village that is whole, that is beautiful. My roots grow stronger in this Bluegrass soil.
Having children sure opened up doors, specifically my neighbors’. My children exchange flowers with the lady next door and run out to show her husband their new biking skills. They bake excitedly on our neighbors’ birthdays, make Christmas gifts for them and have chats over the fence. It is beautiful. As beautiful as my life here, rooted in this Bluegrass soil.
The cold Kentucky winter in the middle of this pandemic sends chills down my bones from a temporary separation from our village. The longing I feel is no longer for my home country, I crave the smiles of my friends, the shrill shrieks and screams of their children in my home, the sweet hugs and smiles of our friends at the stores.
I have ventured in this time into the beautiful rolling hills and mountains that surround us here. I have found a deep love for the rocks and foliage of this beautiful land. I still am captivated by the horses and foals running in the horse farms, cattle grazing, cattle resting signaling rain to come. I am a speck in this beautiful land I have rooted in. I am deeply in love with my sweet home Kentucky.