On homesickness

Today of all days, homesickness is on my mind.

Of course it is.

I spent a good half an hour this morning trying to compose and Facebook post wishing everyone a happy Thanksgiving, that would also express my own wish to be with them. In fact, as I write this blog, I still haven't succeeded in wording the post correctly. And it will probably turn out being very short and succinct and maybe appear to be a bit emotionless. But I promise. It's not.

What I wouldn't give to be in my grandma's kitchen today, lending an expert hand to the candied yams and mashed potatoes. What wouldn't I give to have spent the morning gearing up for the Turkey Trot in Buffalo, NY (The longest running road race in America!), complete with the last minute run to the bathroom. What wouldn't I give to have spent yesterday seeing old friends and great teachers from school. What wouldn't I give to have spent last night eating chicken wings and pizza (what wouldn't I give to spend this weekend alternating between eating left over Thanksgiving dinner food and pizza and wings).

What wouldn't I give?

Well. That's a hard question to answer.

I've been asked a lot lately if I've been homesick. And I think the answer is yes. How is it possible that I'm not certain?

Well, I always imagined homesickness to be the little girl at her first night of sleepover camp, terrified and crying desperately to go home now.

That's never been me. Even at sleepover camp. I never wanted to go home. I never wanted to trade home for the experiences I was having. Yes, I loved getting letters. Yes, I loved seeing my parents again at the end. But I would never give up my time there, just to go home.

Here, it took me a while to recognize homesickness. Because it was never the hysterical "All I want is to be home" that I always thought it was.  It came more in my overjoyed reaction at getting letters. I've sent and recieved a ton of emails (sorry if I haven't managed to respond to all of them). Facebook is great because it is so easy to keep up with people back home. And I love Skyping with my family.

Yes. I miss my family. Yes. I miss my friends. Yes. I cannot wait to see them again.

But would I speed up the time that is left here to reach the day I can see them? Would I give up my time here and the things I've learned and the friends I've made to be with them for just a few days?

...No.

And I feel cruel and heartless and unloving for writing that.

But if there is one thing that I've learned, and one thing that echoes through our childhood stories and memories, it is that family is family no matter how far away everyone is. My parents will always be my parents, my grandparents will always be my grandparents. Same goes for my uncles and aunts and cousins. Same goes for the future family members who have yet to join our crazy disaster.

That won't change just because I miss one Thanksgiving.