Lately, I have been finding myself extremely homesick.
Home is hard to define. Is it the place I grew up? The place my family lives? Where I have the most friends? Where I feel I belong?
The longer I live and the more places I live, I have found that it isn’t about the place. It’s about the feeling when I come home…That feeling of security, comfort, familiarity and warmth.
It has to do with the furniture and smells. I find that certain things have to be present in my home for me to feel comfortable. Like, pictures. They just remind me of the good times, family and comfort. My shoes, they must have a home…a place to sleep and play.
It’s not just about my things. I need my routines. I must have my place to buy certain things from, a place to buy clothes, eat ice cream, play pool and just hang out. It takes time to create these things, find my groove. Fit my idea of home into this new place.
I have been able to find my groove in Jordan. My pictures are displayed, my shoes have a home and I have found a place to buy clothes from. I know where I like to buy ice cream from and where I like to shop for various house hold items but the thing I didn’t count on was the fact that I would miss my family this much and knowing what to expect when I come home to see my family, I know my mom’s fridge will be full of soda, green tea, waffles and she usually stocks up on my favorite junk food (Bad, but soooo good!).
When I lived in the US, I lived in a different state than my mom and the rest of my family. I missed them but I used to visit each month or sometimes less and I had daily conversations with my mom. I find that I miss those visits, and I miss my daily conversations with my mom the most. I can’t share with her the mundane things that happen in my life. Like, the great deal I got on a sweater, the fact that I found cherry coke in Jordan or how to cook something. I can’t share these things with her because I have to factor in time difference, phone cards and appropriate times to call. These things weren’t a factor when I lived there…because I could just pick up the phone and call. I could drive 4 hours and be there…Now, I can’t do that.
And that has been the hardest thing about living in Jordan. The fact that I miss my family and can’t just hop into my car and see them. Pictures are here, shoes are comfortable…but family, isn’t.
That is home to me, knowing that I can see my family whenever I want to and knowing what to expect when I come home.
What do you miss about home?