Friday, July 31, 2009
I’ve never been good at saying good-bye. When I was a little kid I used to cry all the way home after my family reunions; I missed my extended family tremendously and knew it would be another year until I got to see them again. I’ve reacted this way every year since I can remember – and probably before then, too.
As the end of this year’s reunion closes I feel that same, familiar tight feeling in my throat. This year however I do not choke on my emotions because I will miss my cousins, aunts or uncles. I cry because I am about to embark on a new, foreign chapter in my life, far away from the comforts and safety of my parents’ arms.
Yes, I am frightened to leave home, to leave Minneapolis – the only city I’ve ever lived in. Yes, I cried several times during the day as that inevitable good-bye drew closer. Yes, I am tearing up as I type, a mere 5.5 hours after the car carrying my mom, dad and brother drove away from my new apartment. I do not know when I will see them next and the fact that the whole of Wisconsin separates us scares me.
In my mind, my reason for feeling depressed is a little foolish, childish even. I think someone my age would feel most anxious for the new events that are about to unfold, and yet here I am, missing my mommy and wanting “to go home.” But I am home, or at least a quasi-home.
I don’t know how long it will take me to feel “normal” living in Chicago. I keep thinking that maybe I wouldn’t act and think as I do now if I had gone to college away from home. I’ve only ever known Minneapolis and I’ve only ever lived 20 minutes away from my mom’s house. This is what is worrying me most. I am 22 years old and I desperately miss my mom and dad.