As reflected in many of my earlier posts, I really miss my home. I am so excited to go back, and can’t believe that this is it. This is the month of my departure. I am so close to going home, and I’m starting to get a little nostalgic about this place already. I’m going to miss it, and it’s going to be so weird to go back to ‘normal’ life.
As much as I have wanted to go home through the past few months, that feeling was recently intensified. A couple of weeks ago I was really sick, and I discovered something: being sick away from home is the worst. I wanted so badly to be in a familiar place, with someone to look after me and take care of me when I didn’t feel well enough to do it myself. I was tempted to just fly home for a few days, but I was at the point where I didn’t think I would make it.
Fall is here, and it’s so much colder than back home. I am actually experiencing more winter weather than fall weather. I enjoy the cool brisk air, and when I was walking around this morning, it made me wish there was a fire burning. When I thought of this, I followed the memory home. It reminds me of when I go Christmas tree shopping with my parents, when it’s brisk outside and the place we usually go to has a nice campfire where you can warm up. I think of this, and realize that I have fast-forwarded through the fall and am in winter. As I sit here and type this, my fingers are icy. I burrow into multiple layers, and worry about how much more I can take. I don’t have cold weather gear.
As I watch things wind down on the farm, I know my time here is coming to an end. Though I’m starting to get sad about leaving, it’s not going to be the same as it was all summer. I’m excited to see my family and friends again. I’m excited for warmer weather. I’m excited to just be back in my own house, my own room. I know I’ll be bogged down with catching up and figuring out my life, but as the saying goes, “there’s no place like home.”