So, I went home for Christmas. It was my first time back in the States since June, and I realized that I really missed being there. Italy feels like home now, but it definitely isn't home home. Like home is home. Etc. And home in this case included Florida and New York along with beloved Boston.
I love Christmas. And I love the fact that being in the US, after being gone for a while, makes me appreciate random things. Like the availability of cranberry juice, scrambled eggs, and non-diesel-infused air. My mom's cooking. Stuff like that.
And snow! It was snowing when my plane touched down, which was a perfect welcome. This was the view from my front door. If you can't see it well, that's because it was entirely white.
And of course it was really amazing to spend time with the people I love, as weird as they are.
It's bittersweet to realize that, now that my life here is full of so many new people, I really value my relationships with the people who've known me for years. In my own language, no less.
Being away makes it ever-so-clear that they're incredibly important to me. So it was hard to leave - even though it's good to be back.
3 comments:
What a nice, touching blog, with both joy and some sadness. It's great that you love your father's cooking!
What beauty and transcendence you've found in home-cooked mashed, snowbanks, and Tinkie-at-the-Beach! I'm trying not to cry. I think I want dual citizenship.
tinkie needs you. her bed is rather comfy again. you should come sample it.
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