Saturday, March 21, 2009

"... home, where my love lies waiting silently for me..."

This morning while driving to work I caught the tail end of one of those personal stories on NPR about a girl who is stuggling with life right now. The part I heard involved her talking about a conversation with her father about moving home. Home, for her, being a farm in Maine.

I very nearly had to pull the car over to have a good cry.

I found myself saying the same thing to my dad earlier this week for various reasons. I was getting home from work very late and was in one of those "fuck it, I'm quitting my life here in the city and moving back home to the sticks" kind of moods.

Of course, on most days, I love my life in Pittsburgh. My house and my kitties and my manfriend and my running path in Frick Park and the access to fun things to do are almost always enough to make me happy when bad things happen.

But while driving home in the dark and crying into my phone, it took an enormous amount of strength for me to get my car to Point Breeze instead of home to my parents in Beaver County.

As a 26 year old woman, I know (when I'm rational) that home is never the same once you leave it. And that it's not healthy to want to run away when things are scary.

But it's nice to know, courtesy of the woman on NPR this morning, that I'm not the only grown-up who holds on to that idealized "my parents will make it ok" mentality once in a while.

That being said, I am off tomorrow and of course will be going home to spend the day with my parents. I made the "I need a hug from you, Ma" phone call this morning. My mom's response was, as always, "It'll be nice to have you. Send me an email about what you want for lunch and a snack and supper."

It's just for the day, but I can go home again.

1 comment:

Susan said...

Funny you mention that. I was sick of everything not long ago and I found myself thinking "I just want to go home."
Thing is, I'm not sure where that is anymore. The apartment I left when I got married? My mom's place? Nothing I came up with was as HOME as where I am right now. Which is wonderful and dreadful at the same time.