Homesick
When I was nine years old, I went to sleepover camp for the first time. My sister had been going there for years, and I was so excited to be going too. It was at this camp that I first experienced homesickness. Almost as soon as my mother pulled away, the lump in my throat appeared, and that lump along with a feeling of constant longing for home, stayed with me for the entire month that I was there.
I was an extreme case. I cried almost all of the time, begged my counselors to let me call home, and then once I had my parents on the phone, I begged them to take me home. I would go to sleep thinking about home, would have the most vivid dreams about being home, and then would wake up elated to be home, only to soon realize that I had only been dreaming.
At times, while I was married I would feel homesick, even when I was at home. This mostly happened when Joe was traveling. Two years ago this week, is the last time Joe traveled anywhere. I was on school vacation, as I am now. Jacob was 10 months old, and I was 7 months pregnant.
I was homesick the whole week. I wasn't just homesick, I was incredibly anxious. My dreams, instead of being about Joe being home with me, were about something going wrong while Joe was away, and him not being able to get home to me. I remember going to view the Boston Marathon, as I am tomorrow. The whole time I was there, I couldn't shake the incredible feeling of homesickness that had overcome me.
It was on that trip that Joe contracted the chicken pox that sealed his fate. Last night I had the same dream that has been haunting me for a while now. I can see Joe from afar. We have been separated, but are planning on reconciling. But I can never get close enough to see him clearly. I can't get close enough to touch him, or smell him, or even really hear him.
But he's there. I can sense his presence, and that's enough to make the feeling of homesickness subside. Then I wake up. I always wake up. And the realization that he's dead has never gotten easier. Shouldn't it be easier by now? The lump in my throat returns, the feeling in the pit of my stomach shows up, and I may as well be nine years old again.
I am homesick.
-b
I was an extreme case. I cried almost all of the time, begged my counselors to let me call home, and then once I had my parents on the phone, I begged them to take me home. I would go to sleep thinking about home, would have the most vivid dreams about being home, and then would wake up elated to be home, only to soon realize that I had only been dreaming.
At times, while I was married I would feel homesick, even when I was at home. This mostly happened when Joe was traveling. Two years ago this week, is the last time Joe traveled anywhere. I was on school vacation, as I am now. Jacob was 10 months old, and I was 7 months pregnant.
I was homesick the whole week. I wasn't just homesick, I was incredibly anxious. My dreams, instead of being about Joe being home with me, were about something going wrong while Joe was away, and him not being able to get home to me. I remember going to view the Boston Marathon, as I am tomorrow. The whole time I was there, I couldn't shake the incredible feeling of homesickness that had overcome me.
It was on that trip that Joe contracted the chicken pox that sealed his fate. Last night I had the same dream that has been haunting me for a while now. I can see Joe from afar. We have been separated, but are planning on reconciling. But I can never get close enough to see him clearly. I can't get close enough to touch him, or smell him, or even really hear him.
But he's there. I can sense his presence, and that's enough to make the feeling of homesickness subside. Then I wake up. I always wake up. And the realization that he's dead has never gotten easier. Shouldn't it be easier by now? The lump in my throat returns, the feeling in the pit of my stomach shows up, and I may as well be nine years old again.
I am homesick.
-b
5 comments:
I don't know what to say. I'm sorry. I hope it gets easier.
Although I know it doesn't fix it, Joe is definitely with you. He loves you and he sees you. I hope in your dreams you can wrap your arms around him.
Oh.
That just totally and utterly stinks. Big time.
((B))
That's an interesting way to describe that emptiness and loss you've spoken of before. I understand homesickness. I guess multiplying that feeling hundreds of times might help me understand how such a loss must feel. You seem to have a very strong connection to the other dimension.
*hugs*
I'm not sure it's meant to get easier. It certainly shouldn't get harder but I think if it gets easier then maybe you've lost him for good.
I know old ones who've lost their husband/wife for many years and despite the years having passed they're still longing and craving for them back. So no, I don't believe it will get easier, just a little more bearable.
But that's where friends come in. They're there to help you get through the bad times. A warm shoulder to cry on, a listening ear to capture your words of loss, and salty tears joining in yours to form a single pool. That's all that you need when everything seems unbearable. Those idiotic few that stick by you despite you being you. Something tells me you have a few of them.
:-)
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