Monday, February 25, 2013

Homesick

For me, "home" has always been a little hard to define. It's layered and complicated, although not compared to some people I know.

Home includes people and places, houses and apartments in New Jersey, Maryland, South Carolina, Tennessee, and England. A piece of my heart resides in all of them. I can travel there and back and both ways I can say I'm going "home."

Family scattered North and South, friends found across the world.

But lately I've been experiencing a weird form of homesickness. And it's been hard for me to put my finger on exactly what place I've been missing.

Then I dug down a little deeper into my soul and remembered that for me home is also airports and immigration officers, the arrivals gate in Heathrow airport, and train stations and suitcases, packed and repacked.

I'm homesick for an adventure.
Someplace still unknown by me.
The chance to meet new people, learn and love a new culture.

Don't worry mom, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. But I have a major travel bug and I'm feeling restless. And it's my parent's fault really. They dragged me overseas when I didn't want to go. Swore up and down that I would have the time of my life. And they were right, I admit it freely and with thanks.

It's been almost 4 years since my parents moved back to the states, and 4 years since I last walked through immigration, handed them my passport, joked about how young I look in my picture, and heard those sweet words as he stamped the page, "welcome home, miss!" And I was ready to be here in America, I'd been away for so long.

But now my passport is locked in a safe in the back of my closet, and it's collected a little dust. Travel these days means less of an adventure and more of a means to an end.

Some of you might say, "but didn't you just get back from Tennessee"? You might even argue that one really should need a passport to go down there in the first place.

Both are fair statements and the South is its own culture that I eagerly embrace. I don't mean for this post to come off ungrateful because I'm so thankful for my retreat to the mountains, and for every Amtrak ride that ends in New Jersey to see my parents,  or a trip to the Carolinas for girl time. And I'm equally content to stay in my yoga pants and eat popcorn on the couch and not go anywhere.

It's just there's a whole world out there....and I'm homesick for it.
Image sources: 1 | 2 | 3 

8 comments :

  1. Shannon, you remind me so much of your Mom in your writing and I imagine if I ever met the two of you that you would remind me of her in other ways. I just have a sneaking suspicion that the Lord has some great adventures in your future. Have a great week!

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    1. Comparing me to my Mom is probably the highest compliment you could pay me. Thank you for your sweet comment!

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  2. Oh the joys of being a third culture kid.

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  3. It IS hard the word 'home' isn't it!

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