I’ve had a busy month of traveling. The family and I drove cross country to Colorado, enjoying a 10 day trip. On the ride home I was looking forward to getting home to sleep in my own bed and cuddle with my dog, but I didn’t have this overwhelming urge to be home. I was home for a week when I left again for another 10 day trip to Disney with my in-laws and my youngest child. I would have loved for the whole family to go, but work and school schedules didn’t permit it. My three year old loved the trip and it was neat seeing her reaction to all the characters, rides, and shows. All through-out the trip I felt the absence of my other children and husband, but it became really acute on the journey home. Once all the excitement of the parks was over and the 3 day drive home began, my mind could only focus on getting home.
The more I thought on it, the more I realized that I was homesick. It wasn’t a longing for my bed or to get back to my normal routine; I missed my family. With clarity I realized that it didn’t matter if I lost every piece of property that I owned or if I only had the clothes on my back to wear, I would be ok as long as I had my family. As long as I have my husband’s arms to wrap around me, my children’s laughter and insanity, and a warm animal to pet, I am home. Wherever we go, no matter how far we travel, if we are together, it is home.
I kept telling myself during the return trip from Disney to be patient… and that I was Coming Home.