Again, I know I said I wouldn’t…but it’s a gloomy November day and I’m going to indulge in a bit of complaining.
This past week, after I thought I was past all danger of getting homesick again, I’ve had a relapse. While my family and my roommate were here, they reminded me of all the little things that they were soon to go home to...but that I wouldn’t see for another month. At first, I was intensely focused on making a long-term adjustment that I never really paid attention to what I was really missing. But now, my adjusted expectations seem to suit poorly. Of course I miss my family…but that shouldn’t be news to anyone. The unexpected longing for little things is what I want to write about. They're trifles, but I took them for granted.
And on the positive side, I’m sure this little exercise in self-indulgence will be a great help when the time comes to get on that plane and leave Italy behind. I’m giving you plenty of free ammunition for when I start the nostalgic “When I was in Sansepolcro…” reminiscing. Use it wisely.
I miss comfortable and familiar things: I miss eggs and bacon, Ranch dressing, shrimp and grits, and sweet tea with lemon. I miss the clothes I left at home...don’t laugh unless you’ve ever made it through a semester with one pair of jeans and one Meredith t-shirt. I miss the dingy carpet and orange curtains of my favorite practice room.
I miss silly things: I miss having to swipe my Camcard three times to get into Faircloth, running to class in the rain trying to keep my scores dry, and walking back from the library with my nose in a new book and trying not to run into the lampposts while I read. I miss watching guy movies…the flicks that ten Meredith ladies tend to choose aren’t especially good on explosions and sci-fi. I miss hearing other people practice. I miss playing delightfully irreverent pranks on my professors, usually involving cans of Tab or a certain lime green pencil that mysteriously migrates around the music building.
I miss little rites and rituals: saying “Good night, Chels” every night, warming up before Tuesday morning piano lessons, crawling under the keyboards in the theory lab to fix the cables at least once a week. I miss eating breakfast and dinner with the crew I always meet in the dining hall.
I miss cultural things that I took for granted: the confident, carefree walk and hearty good-natured laughs of Americans. I miss seeing strangers smile and watching drivers actually come to a halt at stop signs. I miss the irrepressible optimism and the sense of pride in one’s country and (comparative) trust in one’s leaders.
And, of course, I miss people: I miss family and close friends more and more as time goes on. But I also miss people who I doubt are missing me that much…coworkers, classmates, and especially faculty and staff. I suppose that they are used to the constant turnover, to saying goodbye every December and May…but now I’m wondering how hard it’s going to be for me to leave Meredith and the teachers, mentors, and friends that I have made there.
Thanks for your indulgence…I promise to not to write again until it’s sunny or until I have a particularly large supply of chocolate.