My Heart's in the Highlands

This year for Christmas my family did its normal pollyanna gift exchange with a little twist to the rules. Instead of assigning a dollar limit, we stipulated that the gift needed to be "homemade." Several members of the family balked at this, but, in the end, just about everybody complied and, through a little ingenuity and creativity, was able to come up with something truly special for their intended.

My sister, Sarah, drew my name out of the hat and worked diligently to come up with a gift that she knew would really touch me. She couldn't have succeeded more. With the help of one of my good friends from back in Aberdeen, Kate Ellis, and Trey, Sarah set about compiling a Scottish memory box, a treasure trove of things that would remind me of that Granite City we called home for two years. She knows how much I miss Aberdeen and that my heart and thoughts are never far from her, and she wanted to give me a tangible reminder of what only lived in my mind.

Using decoupage she decorated a wood box with photographs we had taken around Aberdeen and scraps of blue tissue paper, blue being the color of Scotland, of course. Inside the box she tucked a small, magnetic digital picture frame with photos from our time in Aberdeen, a tote bag from the University of Aberdeen (bag for life), handmade soap from the Shetlands, a few granite rocks from the beach, and a sleeve of chocolate covered digestive biscuits from Morrisons. The crowning glory at the top of the box was the Robert Burns poem, "My Heart's in the Highlands," which she had superimposed over a picture of Dunnottar Castle and then laminated. I seriously wept as I read it aloud:

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer -
A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe;
My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.

Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North
The birth place of Valour, the country of Worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.

Farewell to the mountains high cover'd with snow;
Farewell to the straths and green valleys below;
Farewell to the forrests and wild-hanging woods;
Farwell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe;
My heart's in the Highlands, whereever I go.

I had no idea when we moved to Aberdeen how indelibly marked it would leave me. To be sure, I remember the hard things well, the dark winters, the cold, rainy summers, the inconvenience, the limited choices, the acceptance and resignation, but that is not what impacted me most profoundly. When I think back on our time, I am overwhelmed by the kindness of the people, the gentle pace of life, and the incredible natural beauty. In a place where my greatest fear was loneliness and isolation, I had more fellowship and communion than at any other time in my life, thus the tears for a time now gone yet held so dear.

An added bonus to the box was that it provides a safe place to store some of the sentimental trinkets, like my cherished bus ticket, which I otherwise would stash in a drawer somewhere and would, in time, eventually throw away. I also included a set of Doric coasters (with words like blether and its definition) which our landlords gave us as a parting gift, my Bank of Scotland cheque book, a cross stitch sampler I did of St. Machar's Cathedral back when I was pregnant with Davis, and all the sweet farewell cards from friends we received right before leaving.

Top of the box. A picture Sarah took this past summer of the four of us exploring the beach. I love this photo so much, most especially for its unplanned, uncanny resemblance to the Abbey Road album cover.

Picture of the Crown Tower from the inner quad at King's.

Dunnottar Castle.

King's College.

A view of Union Terrace Gardens from above the park.