On being home sick

Homesickness is not actually so much missing home. Besides, after a certain point in life, it is difficult to determine what should be called “home,” anyway. Where my parents live. But what about when they move to somewhere other than where you grew up? Is that still home? And what happens when they die? Where I spend the most time. That’s in a college dorm room. I’m not sure that qualifies for “home.” Where I return from work/school/practice every day. This changes seasonally. So if I can’t define home, how can I miss it?

The feeling we call homesickness is more the realization that no matter how far we travel and how much time we spend “away,” we can never leave our selves behind. This realization comes after the novelty of the new place wears off, once we have a routine in place that allows us to go about the necessities of life automatically enough to resume our old habits and neuroses. Then, homesickness is missing the creature comforts and the little familiarities that, once in a while, helped us to forget that we are stuck with ourselves, no matter where we go.