Fly Away Home

Last night: Went to bed after midnight; have no idea what time I finally fell asleep.

This morning: Been up since 5:03. Packed lunch for Nate. Listened to the hurried sounds of teeth-brushing, bagel-making, english muffin-toasting and cereal slurping while three of my favorite women, (mom and sisters,) milled groggily about my little house in preparation for their early morning deaprture.

Now it's 6:03. And I can't sleep. Which is probably because I can't stop crying. Which is probably because I am excessively sappy (made worse by pregnancy?) and because I can't stop thinking about how much I wish they, (mom and sisters,) could stay forever. And then move in down the street.

I guess, after four fabulous-filled days, I just want it to go on record that living half-a-country away from my family, although good and growth-promoting in many ways, holds my heart in a suffocating half-nelson for a few days every time the togetherness ends. And while I rarely get homesick anymore--which is really saying something for the girl who couldn't make it through a sleep over for such intense homesickness and cried all the way to Wendover every time she drove back to college--today? Today, Texas feels like an ill-fitting shoe. And it's hard to explain to myself why I'm sitting here in this little brick house, where I live, feeling like all I want to do is go home.