On being homesick.

Oh, the dreaded feeling. That tug on your heart that you feel when you miss a place where you are not. I used to have it so bad when I was little that I couldn't bear to sleep over a friend's house. My parents usually had to come pick me up as everyone else put on their pjs and settled into their My Little Pony and Ariel sleeping bags.

It was so bad, in fact, that I think I shocked my mom when I went away to college. Then shocked her even more when I told her I was moving to London. Not my scared-of-sleepovers little girl, she thought.

When I first got here, to London, it hit hard. I missed things I didn't even think I would miss. Lukewarm coffee from my dad's old coffee maker. My mismatched childhood bedroom. Driving the half hour commute to work. Things I took for granted, and maybe didn't even enjoy when I had them. And I'd always been a little bit jealous of those who got to stay near their home after they grew up.

Through the months, though, that homesick feeling dissipated. I was traveling, I was having fun, I was enjoying exploring my city.

But yesterday, that feeling hit hard. Maybe it was reading about all the fun things my friends back home were doing. Maybe it was the feeling of warm-weather nostalgia: water ice, beach trips, and windows wide open while driving my car. Whatever it was, I tried to shoo it away, brush it under the carpet, in hopes it would go away soon. And today, with its blue skies and bright sun, that feeling did soften a bit. I'd hoped that homesick feeling would go away after the initial shock of moving so far away from home, but I'm not sure that will happen. I know I've traded it in for lots of great things, but I think I'll always miss the place where I grew up. The place where I made the most amazing friends, where I had chats about life with my father. The place I called home for all those years.

Right before I left, my dad said, "there's not a baby bird who doesn't leave the nest." And I know it's true. I could see that he knew it was my time to fly. Although I'll miss the little details of home - the sparkling fireflies in early summer, wawa coffee, family parties - I know there will always be a place for me there when I get the occasional chance to fly back. And knowing that makes me feel a little bit better.