Miss America?

Do I miss America?

It’s embarrassing how long it’s been since I’ve written about our experiences here. The excuse I’m sticking with – which is mostly true – is that time is flying by faster than I can open up Microsoft Word. (A less substantial excuse which may be closer to the truth is that I have a weird pride in what I write and I don’t like to write unless I feel inspired, which I haven’t, and I don’t really now, but I’m forcing myself to type anyway!)

It really does seem like February barely happened – it was a month full of visitors from America – how exciting! First we had Lindsay and the tennis team and then Steph’s parents and then co-workers from AIA….. This was a month that I was very much looking forward to, but also dreading. You see, I have been doing really well here, feeling at home, emotionally stable, all of those unexpected things. I was afraid that seeing so many faces from home would remind me what I was missing until I crammed myself in a suitcase to stow-away my way home.

I had a great time visiting with friends and showing off the life we’ve created here, which I enjoy and am proud of. But, I was so relieved that when Lindsay got in her taxi to go home that I realized, “okay, I’m still okay.”

It’s gotten me thinking about a question we’ve been asked before: Do I miss America?

******Interjection: If you know me, love me, miss me (I know some of you do!!), this is not intended to be painful for you. Read on to understand me better, but know I love you and miss you too and don’t hold the following against me, please. *********

Well, Ben is gone right now. And I miss him. I think of him throughout the day, wishing he wasn’t missing the cute things Simon is doing, wanting to tell him about the cow that gave birth down the street, wanting him to tell me more about his day than an international phone call will allow. So, do I feel that way about America?

Not really. My longing feelings for America come in the form of frustrated expletives at a problem I’m facing here. (For instance, “Darn stinking cold water – in America I have a dishwasher and my stuff actually gets clean!”) There are many things I miss – Kroger, freedom, justice (at least more of it than exists here), my minivan, salad.

And, more importantly, many people I miss – deeply and terribly.

I guess the point is, though, that on a day to day basis, this has become normal, and I don’t pine for America.

But, pray for me, because my parents come in a few days, and when they leave, I might be in their suitcase!