Home
In the weeks before this Thanksgiving break countless people told me that everything would be different when I got home. I heard that people would treat me different because I was becoming educated and that I wouldn’t feel at home in my own house. This was scary. Although I am already getting comfortable with my roommate and my friends here, I was afraid of losing my sense of home. I looked forward to being in a place where everyone knew my background, my likes and dislikes, my personality. Home is where I can be comfortable just being myself, and I was worried I wouldn’t have that when I reached Sidney.
Coming home I did find a few changes. Finnicum’s Furniture had finished their storage building and the high school’s new science wing was completed. My aunt’s new house had a roof and the garage was nearly done. In my own house a faux wood humidifier sat in my living room and my bird Sunny’s cage was in the living room. At Grandma Dee’s there was a DVD player in the basement. While a few physical things had changed, home was still the same. My bedroom still looked empty, most of my favorite belongings now filling my dorm room. My grandma’s house smelled the same and the brown pleather chair was just as inviting. Both places were the same with just a few minor improvements.
Although I looked forward to the familiar surroundings at home, the thing I longed for most was to find my family unchanged. It was a great relief then to get home and find my family was still the same. My Uncle Geno still called me Gomer and chased me around trying to flick my arm. (That really hurts!) I watched late night television in the living room and perched on a bar stool in the morning eating a cinnamon roll. My whole family laughed while I demonstrated my newly acquired belly dance skills. We played Cranium on the kitchen table and laughed about Nathan drawing a calf for the word “caviar.” Joy flooded my heart as I realized that not much had changed. I could still perform goofy dances and wear my scruffy pajamas around the house. At home I don'’t have to worry about being articulate, funny, smart, or charming. My family already loves me, just as I am.
Thursday night I laid in bed with the covers pulled up around my neck, listening to my grandma’s soft snores. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was home.
In the weeks before this Thanksgiving break countless people told me that everything would be different when I got home. I heard that people would treat me different because I was becoming educated and that I wouldn’t feel at home in my own house. This was scary. Although I am already getting comfortable with my roommate and my friends here, I was afraid of losing my sense of home. I looked forward to being in a place where everyone knew my background, my likes and dislikes, my personality. Home is where I can be comfortable just being myself, and I was worried I wouldn’t have that when I reached Sidney.
Coming home I did find a few changes. Finnicum’s Furniture had finished their storage building and the high school’s new science wing was completed. My aunt’s new house had a roof and the garage was nearly done. In my own house a faux wood humidifier sat in my living room and my bird Sunny’s cage was in the living room. At Grandma Dee’s there was a DVD player in the basement. While a few physical things had changed, home was still the same. My bedroom still looked empty, most of my favorite belongings now filling my dorm room. My grandma’s house smelled the same and the brown pleather chair was just as inviting. Both places were the same with just a few minor improvements.
Although I looked forward to the familiar surroundings at home, the thing I longed for most was to find my family unchanged. It was a great relief then to get home and find my family was still the same. My Uncle Geno still called me Gomer and chased me around trying to flick my arm. (That really hurts!) I watched late night television in the living room and perched on a bar stool in the morning eating a cinnamon roll. My whole family laughed while I demonstrated my newly acquired belly dance skills. We played Cranium on the kitchen table and laughed about Nathan drawing a calf for the word “caviar.” Joy flooded my heart as I realized that not much had changed. I could still perform goofy dances and wear my scruffy pajamas around the house. At home I don'’t have to worry about being articulate, funny, smart, or charming. My family already loves me, just as I am.
Thursday night I laid in bed with the covers pulled up around my neck, listening to my grandma’s soft snores. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was home.
posted by Bridget Farr @ 8:57 PM
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