A note about homesickness

Hello, friends and neighbors. Here am I, dropping a few lines to tell you this about homesickness on the busy, vibrant college campus: IT EXISTS!

I know, I know. With so much to do, so much to see, so many people to befriend, when do you have time to be homesick, and why would you in the first place? Let me just say this - I've had kind of a hard time adjusting to the move to San Antonio, and apparently I'm not the only one. A few others on my hall are known to be homesick quite frequently (and to not be in the greatest moods during those instances).

I miss my home. I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss Joyful Sound. I miss my own room with its beige walls and my comfy queen bed with the bookshelf headboard. I miss my mom bringing home random snacks of deliciousness for us to find and consume the minute they come to rest in the pantry. I miss my dad falling asleep on the couch while playing with Christina. I miss Jonathan's moments of randomness when he'd come up close to me and stare with huge eyes into my face, unblinking for minutes, even after I'd walked away. I miss Catherine's pretty face (she's wearing makeup now!) and the way she's sweet enough to make me food and smoothies. I miss the patter of Christina's footsteps as she runs to open the door for me when I come home. I miss Daniel's random facial hair, the way he calls me "fool," our conversations about anything and everything Joyful Sound, and his eyebrow-lowering. I miss how my siblings and I would harmonize alternately well and badly while cleaning up the kitchen. I miss having a bunch of different places to go when I want to be alone. I miss driving. (I know that's a weird thing to miss but it's kind of weird not driving yourself around multiple times a day.)

I miss the excitement of Tuesday mornings, the excitement of driving to choir, and the feeling of relief and fulfillment when arriving at the building where Joyful Sound! is held. I miss spending all day Tuesday with my closest friends, singing my heart out for Mrs. Paula, dancing Lauren's choreography and doing really cool lifts, taking 45 minutes to say goodbye to my friends in the parking lot, working on TMEA and TPSMEA music, sitting in high school cafeterias freaking out while some official people read chair numbers, going on choir trips, eating out with choir people, performing Ministry concerts and sharing God's love with everyone we meet, and so much more. I miss Mrs. Paula. I miss Lauren and Mandy and their precious little boys. I miss Mell and Victoria and Emily and Megan and Kaylee and Haley and Bethany and Summer and Jenny and Erica. I miss Stephen and Dan and Chris and Matt and Hunter and Brian and CD.

I miss the comfort of Houston's familiarity. I miss knowing where to go and how to get there. I miss being able to call my mom for directions if I take a wrong turn somewhere. I miss being able to run down to Kroger and know exactly where everything in the store is located. I miss having family and friends nearby and having the ability to go to any of their houses if need or occasion arise - the Stanleys, the Millers, the Fishels, and the Haverkorns, to name a few. Last year I basically spent the summer with the Stanley girls; whenever I wasn't at their house, they were at mine. I miss being able to call Brittney and say "Hey, life sucks. Can I come over?"...and then doing so. I miss Brittney messaging me and saying, "Hey, I'm bored. Let's go to Starbucks"...and then we'd do so. I miss Brittney and Heidi. I miss the ridiculousness of Willowbrook Mall, the greatness of having a Chick-fil-A every 5 miles from any point in Houston, and the funness of driving on 249.


San Antonio is still foreign to me. What I've heard about the "Trinity bubble" is true. Once you've spent time on campus, you forget about the existing world of the city surrounding the university. Every now and then you'll realize that you're actually in the middle of San Antonio, and your mind will be blown. Trinity is such a small, sheltered environment, full of sunshine and green grass and red brick buildings. The few times I've gone off campus with a friend, I've realized just how unfamiliar I am with the city I now live in, and how much I miss Houston, where the awful traffic and also-unfamiliar roads are not threatening to me, because they all lead to places I know and to people I love.

I am homesick. And I don't think that will change for a long time.