Sotherland is a unique name. It’s origins are Scotish, which is not so unique in itself. There’s a region in Scotland with the same name and plenty of others around the world who sign their credit card slips the same way we do. No, none of that is unique to us. The unique part of the names lies in the spelling – Sotherland. Looking on the map of Scotland or meeting other people with the same name, you won’t find it spelled the same way – with an O. Everywhere and everyone else spells it with a U – Sutherland. In this way, we’re unique – all thanks to a whoever wrote down the name back when my husband’s family emerged over from Scotland. Either someone was having an off day, had sloppy handwriting, couldn’t clearly understand a thick Scotish brough, or just felt like making us unique- we’ll never know. The name itself (not so much the unique spelling) has led to some conversations we wouldn’t ordinarily have had, which has influenced our lives in both subtle and in-your-face ways.
The Sotherland tartan and pin, with our wedding bands
A couple years after moving to Detroit, Jon went to work at a Marriott hotel. There, he met a man named Robert MacPhearson – a Scotish name if I’ve ever heard one. Robert is proudly Scotish and thrilled to meet others who share his heritage and love for the land. Upon hearing that Jon’s last name was Sotherland, he promptly asked if we had ever gone to the Highland Games here in Michigan. (This was among many other questions about his ancestry, knowledge of Scotish history, and love of haggis). The answer, at the time, was no. We had never even heard of the Highland Games in the metro-Detroit area. Seeing as how we were of Scotish descent (well, Jon was – Robert graciously ignored my English and German background by saying to me “Just don’t tell anyone you’re part English and that way they’ll like you.”), Robert invited us to meet him and his family at the Highland Games that summer.
Our first time at the Highland Games was an eye-opener. In our ignorance, we were not expecting everything to be so Scotish! Bagpipes are the instrument of choice for any kinds of music – from traditional anthems to a little Ozzie Osbourne, kilts are the standard dress for men – easily more common than jeans and t-shirts, and the only alcohol served was beer and Scotch whiskey – no wine or mixed drinks allowed. After arriving to the Ceilidh the first evening, we knew that our perceptions of being Scotish had changed. A Ceilidh is Gaelic for a social gathering, involving music, dancing, and camaraderie. At our first Ceilidh, we were accepted by and adopted into Robert’s family – his aging mother, two brothers, wife, and daughter. Over the years, more kids have started coming, as they get old enough to participate. Every year, we Sotherland’s join the MacPhearson clan for an evening of talking, drinking, and dancing – most times all three at once!
Our wedding day, with Jon in his kilt
Because of the introduction to Scotish history we received from Robert, we have incorporated aspects into our everyday lives – the most notable being our wedding day. Rather than renting a tuxedo or purchasing a brand new suit to wear, Jon selected to wear a kilt. Of course you can buy a generic kilt online and in stores around the country, but we wanted an authentic kilt made with the Sotherland tartan and customized for Jon. Add in all of the other items needed – a sporran, knee socks, and others – and Jon’s wedding day outfit ended up costing more than my wedding dress! (Granted, I had found my dress at a wholesale dress shop in Paris for much less than you would pay at an actual wedding dress store, but that’s beside the point I’m trying to make.) He got married in a kilt, making our wedding unique (at least to our families and group of friends who are not accustomed to seeing men in kilts) and allowing him to embrace that part of his heritage.
Jon and Robert at the Ceilidh
Each year since that first, we’ve made our way to the Highland Games, specifically to the Ceilidh, to be with Robert’s family. This past weekend was no different – Jon donned his kilt as usual, we shared some fish and chips to help absorb all the beer, and danced to bagpipes and fiddles with our friends. What made this year unique is that we’ve now said our first “Goodbye” before we leave for our trip. We’re 11 months away from leaving, so will not be making it to the Ceilidh next year. I know this next year will be filled with “lasts” – the last time we go to a Tiger’s game, the last time we eat at Polish Village – but this first “last” was harder than I thought it would be. I hadn’t expected to be so sad upon leaving, saying goodbye to Robert and his family and listening to the last notes of the bagpipe float away. I cried on the way back to the hotel, despite reassurances from Jon that we’re doing the right thing and that this is the path we’re meant to be on. I realize all of that and am aware of all of that in my mind. But in my heart, I’m thinking of all of the good people we know and love who we will be saying “goodbye” to over the next 11 months. I know that this “goodbye” is not forever – we’ll be back someday to dance and drink at another Ceilidh with Robert and his family – but I don’t know when that day will come, nor do I know what will happen or where we will be in the meantime.
The fact that our countdown is under a year and that we are starting our “lasts” has made the trip more real. We’re been thinking of, dreaming of, and planning for this trip for so long now that it hasn’t seemed real until now. Now that we are starting our “goodbye’s,” it’s sinking in. So, for now, I’m sitting on my parent’s deck, enjoying a cup of coffee and looking out at all the beautiful flowers my mom has cared for. I’ll enjoy this moment – and all the others to come over the next 11 months – and try not to reflect as much on the “last” aspect of things, but try to remember how lucky we are to have these moments with our families and friends.