As my mom and I arrived home from the airport, I sprinted outside and let my dogs out from their cages. I took myself by surprise and started wailing and sobbing almost uncontrollably.
"Is everything okay?" my mom asked as she walked in the side door. "I thought somebody had died!"
I laughed through my tears. I was so struck by how much I missed them that I guess my emotions sort of took over. Not being able to hug and cuddle and play with my dogs was one of the hardest parts of being away at college. A highlight of each and every week was seeing all of the dogs around the University of Oregon campus, because I missed mine.
Once the realization and comfort of being home has worn off, I have realized that I have missed so much more than I had thought during the almost three month long period that I had been gone. I noticed idle things such as new construction sites and restaurants that had popped up and things that changed places around the house and the area surrounding it.
Most of all, however, I noticed how much I missed my friends back at college and the life that I had built in Eugene. I am not the same person that I always was in Texas and I have felt that coming back home, I was this new different person who no longer felt attached to DFW and all it had to offer. Being gone for so long, I realized that what I care most about is the people that I love. Whether it be the five or so friends I still have from high school (shoutout to y'all for sticking by me), my family members back in Texas, or the friends that I have made during my nearly two and a half years working at the deli, it was the people that I was homesick for, not my actual 'home'.
After being back for a week and a half or so, the definition of home had become extraordinarily blurry and highly subjective. Without a car, the University of Oregon and the twenty minute radius has pretty much evolved into my home. You would think I would be sick of it at this point, but I am already eagerly awaiting seeing all of my friends when I get back.
Home is a completely questionable idea in itself. My family lives all over the country -- and world -- and most of us have moved several times. My dad was born and raised in Chicago, while my mom split her life between there and Florida. My parents ended up meeting there when they were in their early twenties and lived there until after my three siblings were born and before I was born. Then, they moved to Minnesota and had me, and eventually moved to Texas.
Because of my families complicated moving history, home was already a complicated association enough, but going to college out of state to a part of the country that I had never known transformed this even further.
Winter Break emphasized this for me: even if I was back home with family, things had changed and I had truly left my heart in Oregon.
