Homebody

When life moves you around a lot, it's easy to get confused. Don't get me wrong, I know exactly what I want and where I want to be. But it's not what I would've initially expected.

This winter, I traveled from Yokosuka, Japan to Yokota. Then it was back to Yokosuka and on to Tokyo to fly from Narita International Airport to Minneapolis/St. Paul via Guangzhou, China and LAX. The next five weeks were a refreshing whirlwind - seeing family, catching up with long-time friends, enjoying holidays - and it's clear that Minnesota is my home. During that time, I bounced back and forth between there and my other familiar and alma mater town, Madison, WI, for a friend's wedding festivities. We are now in the middle of a 4-week stint in Dahlgren, Virginia. Minnesota was a fantastic time, and I was filled to the brim by people I can't wait to live life with again. Someday.

But I miss Japan.

I miss the culture. I miss the tight spaces. I miss some of the little things. I somehow even miss being a minority. It sobers you. I miss the trains, and I miss the convenient stores. I miss my neighborhood, though I can communicate with only one of my neighbors. I miss the way it feels. I miss taking out trash every day. I miss biking everywhere. I miss our tiny little house and our ornery cat. He's bothering someone else for now.

I guess what I'm saying is that Japan is truly home now. But just for now. And you know, that feels nice. To know we are able to make home where we are. And to actually feel pain for not being there, though it's not Minnesota. How strange, that a place 8000 miles from our hometown with a culture so vastly different from the one we were brought up in, can make us fall in love with it.