4th of July Parade in Toppenish, WA. Mom and my uncle in the truck Grampa restored.
Today is really hitting me hard. Hard, as in tears at breakfast, and I'm floating around the house in a gray daze.
The underlying current of emotion is homesickness. It's the 4th of July, and I'm not home. I'm not home for one of our family get-togethers. Those kind that aren't complete without my mom's potato salad and the 5 pies she's made the night before. Without some kind of red jello salad, melting in the sun. Without hot dogs and hamburgers and regular dogs standing around, waiting food to spill off flimsy paper plates.
I'm not home to gather lawn chairs and head in to the parade. My parents are from the same tiny town, and their families have been meeting at the same grassy block on the parade route since before I can remember. It's our own little family reunion there, and all the old timers would stop by to tip their hats and say hello to Grampa and Gramma.
I miss the blazing heat. How can it be the 4th of July without the dire need to cool off in a swimming hole? It feels like May here, and the fact that it's Independence Day just refuses to sink in.
Most of all, I miss a sense of Home. Home, where you feel at ease. Home, where those you love dearly are just a couple of dirt roads away.
This homesickness is having me realize that my living in this city with one foot out the door is taking its toll. I absolutely do not feel like home here. I'm so set on moving away, that my house isn't decorated, and it doesn't exude "home" when I walk in the door. Living with the strong desire to be somewhere - anywhere - else has left me without roots. I'm floating along like a gypsy, without anything to make me feel grounded and secure.
Today has shaken me up. I realize that I need to make some changes. I need to get myself grounded and attached and living in the moment. And that starts now.