Do you remember your first few days of college? When your family drops you off and you tearfully say goodbye? But you soon forget about that because it's college and you're having so much fun!
But are you? Really?
Everyone says it's so fun so you say that you love it. But. You have no friends. You have no car. Your mattress is made of foam. You share a bathroom with too many people who aren't nearly as neat as you. And it turns out your roommate isn't going to be that long lost BFF.
You're truly homesick.
But then there's a party. Or an orientation event. Or you join a group. Or you luck out and have a really great group of students in your Spanish 101 class. And then things start to click. You meet people and you laugh together and you study together and stay up late together because there are no parents to tell you to go to bed. And then voilà! You have friends! And now you're not lying when you say you love college.
That's how it's been with our move.
I was tearful in the beginning. I missed my clean house. I missed having windows from the past decade that didn't need a wooden stick to keep them open. (There are many things to love about old houses but windows are not one of them.) I missed my treeless backyard because, I admit it, I'm a sun worshipper. I missed my next-door neighbor and her three kiddos. I missed the flow of our familiar routine.
Many times last week, as he lay in bed, William asked to go home. It took all my effort not to choke up when I had to explain to him that this is home.
But then on Friday, returning from a family walk to the park, we were invited across the street to our neighbor's house. On most Friday nights in the summer this family of six sets up a projection screen in their backyard, pops some popcorn and chills some juice boxes. All the little kiddies in a one block radius (and their parents) are invited to their backyard movie night.
It was the coolest thing ever.
With about 20 kids in attendance our little social butterfly was in heaven. Especially when one little boy brought out his dinosaur set.
Brian and I met about five other sets of parents that night and each was as warm and welcoming as any neighbor could hope for.
Since that night William no longer asks to go home because I think, like me, he's feeling a little more nestled in this new nest of ours. It's amazing how a little warm kindness from others can heal the blues.
I think this fellow may have also played a small role in curing his homesickness.
But are you? Really?
Everyone says it's so fun so you say that you love it. But. You have no friends. You have no car. Your mattress is made of foam. You share a bathroom with too many people who aren't nearly as neat as you. And it turns out your roommate isn't going to be that long lost BFF.
You're truly homesick.
But then there's a party. Or an orientation event. Or you join a group. Or you luck out and have a really great group of students in your Spanish 101 class. And then things start to click. You meet people and you laugh together and you study together and stay up late together because there are no parents to tell you to go to bed. And then voilà! You have friends! And now you're not lying when you say you love college.
That's how it's been with our move.
I was tearful in the beginning. I missed my clean house. I missed having windows from the past decade that didn't need a wooden stick to keep them open. (There are many things to love about old houses but windows are not one of them.) I missed my treeless backyard because, I admit it, I'm a sun worshipper. I missed my next-door neighbor and her three kiddos. I missed the flow of our familiar routine.
Many times last week, as he lay in bed, William asked to go home. It took all my effort not to choke up when I had to explain to him that this is home.
But then on Friday, returning from a family walk to the park, we were invited across the street to our neighbor's house. On most Friday nights in the summer this family of six sets up a projection screen in their backyard, pops some popcorn and chills some juice boxes. All the little kiddies in a one block radius (and their parents) are invited to their backyard movie night.
It was the coolest thing ever.
With about 20 kids in attendance our little social butterfly was in heaven. Especially when one little boy brought out his dinosaur set.
Brian and I met about five other sets of parents that night and each was as warm and welcoming as any neighbor could hope for.
Since that night William no longer asks to go home because I think, like me, he's feeling a little more nestled in this new nest of ours. It's amazing how a little warm kindness from others can heal the blues.
I think this fellow may have also played a small role in curing his homesickness.
Aw...
ReplyDeleteI understand.
But how awesome that movie night sounds. And awesomer (you know what I mean) still that you all are feeling maybe a little more rooted in your new place.