Homesick

It’s in the sound of the coyotes singing the night away. It’s in the feel of the warm air wrapping around you as you step outside. It’s in the sight of wildflowers blooming like crazy. It’s in the taste of watermelon fresh from the field. It’s in the smell of a mesquite fueled fire.

Home is not a fancy place. It’s not upscale, in fact it’s rather rundown. Things seem to break as often as they work. Home is not a place that my mother is proud of. But it’s home.

B supplanted my ties to home. He dug up my roots and gave me his love. But now we have no roots but each other. The military sends us where they will, when they will. We really don’t get a say. And now they’re moving us further from home.

My ties here have been cut. I don’t feel like I really belong anymore. I’m waiting for us to move to our next home together. Unfortunately, feeling this rootless makes me more homesick for the most permanent home I’ve ever known.

I miss late night Whataburger runs.

I miss cooking in my Mom's kitchen after a long day of shopping with her.

I miss hearing my Dad laugh.

I miss home.

~The Countess~

Advertisements

About texancountess

I find myself in the calming roar of the sea, floating gently on the foam of the breaking waves. Blue. Green. Gray. The colors of the sea mark the boundaries of my soul. The tumbled glass finds its polish under the relentless pounding of the waves upon the shore. Thus am I. Rough transitioning to polish, refinement ever a process, finding my niche in the storms of life.
This entry was posted in Life and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Homesick

  1. I love you. And I hope you feel a bit less homesick knowing that the ever-so-hyped Spicy Ketchup that Whataburger now has, isn’t all that grand.

    • That does make me feel a bit better. Though, I don’t even think I’d try it. They’re regular ketchup is too amazing. And I still miss that. Burger King just isn’t the same at all…

  2. Mary says:

    I understand this, in my own way. I seem to relocate every few years, and it’s always tough. Just as you get used to a place, you have to start over. And it’s like adding coats of paint to a wall – with each move, I miss home, but also the places I’ve left. They just keep piling up. ♥ You’re very lucky, though, that you have someone’s love and support – you’re not going this alone. “Home is where the heart is” may be a bit clichéd, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.

    • I am so incredibly lucky to have B with me on this journey. And it does make things easier. Except when it doesn’t. And then I feel worse because I know that my “home” is now with B and therefore I shouldn’t miss “home” when I am “home.” It gets complicated fast and then I’m battling homesickness with guilt over being homesick…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s