After spending a fraction of Labor Day Weekend at home, something in particular about my experience resonated deeply within me. At the time, I wasn't sure what was tugging at my heart. Now I know. Before heading home, I had almost dreaded the trip. Who am I kidding? I was definitely dreading the journey home. It isn't that I didn't want to see my family or spend a night in my childhood home. No... It was that I had become so accustomed to the swing of things in my college life that it seemed like a chore to break the cycle. Plus, I knew going home would make me miss home all the more.
The drive from Lexington to home was long and silent. I felt as if I was trudging along down the interstate quite begrudgingly. To reflect on this feeling makes me feel almost ashamed. What was wrong with me?
I went about my visit casually. I went home to find my Papa (father) working on an old Chevy in our driveway. The familiarity of it softened my heart. I jumped out of my car and ran into my Papa's arms and was held in what felt like one of the longest hugs of my life, but it was the kind of hug that gives you life. Then we went to see our goofy Boxer, Maxi. Maxi was just as much of a goob as ever. Then Papa proceeded to show me how much my little sister's chicks had grown. They were no longer fluffy...they were growing feathers. After proceeding to feed the chickens, I headed into our log cabin house to visit with my cat.
My cat, Harley Q, is simultaneously the best and the worst. She is so affectionate yet a little menace when she wants to be. I scooped her up and kissed her nose, clutching her furry little form to my chest. I had missed this so much.
Then my little sister and mother returned home after a day of church and visiting a family friend. My sister, as much as she hates to admit it, misses me a lot when I am at college. She proceeded to tell me all about life as a freshman in high school and how much she loves her art class. This is the happiest I have seen her in years, and I am so happy that she is okay. My little sister, like myself, has dealt with bullies and poor self-image for quite sometime. I see genuine joy in her eyes for the first time in a very long while.
My mom, I can tell, is just as thrilled as I am at the thought of my sister being happy again. I talk to mommy more than anyone else back home when I am at school, so she and I are pretty well in touch when I am away. Nothing quite compares to the safety I feel when my mommy holds me. I may be almost twenty years old, but you can't tell me that there isn't something special about a mother's hugs even now.
Now...I bet you're wondering why I went into this elaborate spill about my visit home. My point is this: even if you feel like you don't need to go home...you do. Any chance you get. Who or what is telling you that you can't? A visit home, if possible, is like a warming cup of coffee for your soul. I didn't realize this until I was leaving my house and taking the drive back down the mountain into town. The beauty of my small hometown took my breath away. The mountains are home. No matter where I end up, my heart resides in that tiny town where the Bluegrass Kisses the Mountains.
Thank God for family and home.
