Going "Home"

Maybe surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
I just wanna go home
Oh, I miss you, you know.
-"Home" by Michael Buble

As my time here has slowly grown shorter and shorter, I have had to deal with a lot of mixed emotions. Emotions that I did not expect to have, at least not at this time.

Pretty much everyone that I've ever met living overseas has gone through periods of really missing their home and periods of really loving their current country. I went through that cycle many times. Some days I would kill for a Dr. Pepper and some college football. Then, on other days, I go downtown and stay out late just because I want to be out with the people as much as I possibly can. This has been going on for two years and hasn't been a big surprise. It still happens. And that feeling can change from week to week, day to day, or even hour to hour. Missing home, wanting to be there, missing friends and family, these are all things that have just become part of life. You learn to deal with it.

So none of that has been a problem. But here recently, I was thrown a curve ball and caught extremely off guard. As my departure has gotten closer, I've been forced to think about what I'm going to do in the States. I need a job, place to stay, and some sort of plan for the immediate future. At times I get excited about it all and at times I am scared to death. One day I'm ready to go, one day I never want to leave.

So what has changed? Didn't I just say that missing home was a natural part of life here? Yes. But there is one big difference. There's a few questions that came up in my mind and heart that I had a hard time answering.

Where is home? And how is my family?

There's a great conversation between two characters (Andrew and Sam) in a movie I like (Garden State) that goes like this:

Andrew Largeman: You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place to put your shit, that idea of home is gone.
Sam: I still feel at home in my house.
Andrew Largeman: You'll see when you move out it just sort of happens one day. One day and it's just gone. And you can never get it back. It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I mean it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place.

I lost that feeling of home a long time ago. I didn't grow up in the same house my whole life. The last house I lived in before going to Clemson was the one I lived in the longest. But then in the spring of my freshman year, my parents moved out of that one. I rarely went "home" during college and then I moved to CO, which might as well have been Turkey. I could go back to SC anytime and have a place to stay. I still do. That's not a problem. But I didn't have a home there. But, again, I was used to that. This new problem came up when I began to realize that I might not feel at home in the United States anymore. Forget not having a house to call home, I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to call one country home!

Now, I know, it's very dramatic and blow out of proportion. I know that. But consider that I've been gone for almost two years now. When I go back, I'm going to be living in a city that I have only driven through once. Everything will be new again. I know everything hasn't changed in two years, but enough has to make me feel like a stranger. Which brings up the second question.

Who is my family? Everybody that knows me knows that my family has never really been like a family at all. My parents divorced when I was little and both have gone through (at least) one more marriage apart from each other. Almost everyone in my family has been divorced and arrested. When I became a Christian, the gap between them and I became exponentially larger. I still love them and I still visit them, but I haven't been part of the family for many years now. My friends and Christian brothers and sisters have been my family over the years. I have latched on to friend's families and tried to make myself a part of them. Here is no different. Here I have the V-family that I have grafted myself into. They are gracious and loving and have accepted me in as one of the clan. But there are others as well. Special K, the Canadian, the Anti, the Botanist, Crack and Miss Kitty, Zack and Mrs. Yates, they've all become like family to me. We have shared life together. And even though I know that I'm just a small part in their lives, they have become large parts of mine.

I have lived in the apartment I'm sitting in now longer than I have lived anywhere since I left home for Clemson. I haven't had a consistent group of friends since my sophomore year at Clemson. I haven't attended the same church for this long in years. This place feels as much home to me as any place. The people I am with here are just as much my family as anyone I know. It's hard for me to think about leaving this place and these people.

I know I have wonderful friends waiting for me. I have people that are waiting to make me feel as much at home as they can. I have a wonderful girl that has waited a long time for me to get there. I have a lot to look forward to. I do and I am honestly excited about the new few weeks and months. I don't want you to misunderstand me. I am ready to leave. But at the same time, the grass doesn't seem all that much greener on the other side. It's no worse, it's just a totally different pasture.

I will always look back on these two years of my life very fondly. Where, for a brief time, I found a place that felt something like home. And I found some people that felt a lot like family.

I miss home, where ever that may be.