I just found this sitting in my drafts folder. It’s old… I don’t know how old. Xanga old. But I read it, and it made me cry, and it’s still so true it hurts.
I wanted to share. This is what it feels like to live a million miles away from your family.
I cried myself to sleep last night.
It’s funny. I sat here for almost 15 minutes looking at the entry screen, and wondering if I should write those words. But nothing has changed. This is what I would write if I didn’t know there were almost two hundred people reading it. And this is what I will write now that I do.
“I’m homesick,” I told Brock. He could tell that something was wrong. I had been a little low all evening.
“Do you want to take a trip home?” he asked me, “Do you want to go before Christmas?”
Thoughts were running through my mind constantly, but one single message was being played loud and clear. “It’s not that… it’s…” I allowed it all to blurt out at once, “…I just don’t feel like they even miss me.”
Those words seemed to break whatever was holding me back, and I couldn’t keep the tears from falling. Brock held me, and ran his fingers through my hair while I exhausted myself with sobs. He let me cry while quietly whispering, “They love you, Mandy. They miss you. They miss you every single day.” Eventually the tears stopped, and my breathing slowed, and I felt a special sort of calm that can only be found after a storm.
“Do you feel better now?” Brock asked me. My head seemed to nod on it’s own as I felt myself drift silently into sleep.
Isn’t it funny? 600 comments on a post about being lonely, people telling me that I just need to do this, or just need to find that and my life will be better. Just look on the brighter side, you’ll get through this. Yet still, sometimes, the sadness just overwhelms me. And once I let it out, I go back to being fine. I just miss them so much, is all.
My mother responded with this:
So, you don’t tell your mother everything! I had to find out about turkeys on Xanga! That’s okay. I don’t tell you everything either. Like how proud I am of you, and how much I miss you .
That you make my day when I pick up the phone and you say hi mama. How it breaks my heart to have to say “Mandy I can’t talk right now cause 5 people are clamoring for my attention” and to have to tell you to call back later. I am like a seven year old waiting for Christmas about our vacation because I get to have you to myself for however long you can be with us in September. I don’t have to share. Except with your dad and that’s okay cause he misses you too! Only he’ll tell you you still talk too much. lol And then if it happens that you can come home for Christmas I won’t mind sharing because I will have already had my selfish share.
I want to tell you about what happened last night.
A young lady about your age came into the hotel looking very upset and crying and asked me for a room. I of course got her settled and then being a nosy mom, asked if there was anything I could do to help her and she said no thanks, I just need a bath and some pain killers and some sleep. I told her to let me know if she got any worse and I would take her to the hospital. Anyway an hour later the front desk called me and asked me to go to her room. I went right away and she was burning with fever and crying obviously in alot of pain.
I took her right to the hospital and stayed with her while they examined her and admitted her and she kept saying “you don’t have to stay with me” and I said, yes I do, because someday if something ever happened to my daughter I would want to know that there was someone out there who would care enough to help her. THAT was firstmost in my thoughts. This morning when I went back to the hospital to get her, the hug she gave me was almost like a hug from you. She was diagnosed as having a severe kidney infection and was going to continue on her way home.
I think at times I do for other young people what I can’t do for you. Be there to be a comfort and give a hug when someone needs one. Still none of them can take away the loneliness that only goes when you are home.
I do love you, and miss you more
I replied to her with this:
Maybe go get some tissues.
It is a good thing we had that talk today about crying being a good thing. You made me cry and cry. Brock came over to hug me, and couldn’t figure out what was wrong. He kept asking me, “What is it? Is she mad at you? Is she sad at you? What did she say?” …but I was crying too hard to answer.
Why is it that sometimes we can’t say the things we mean to say until it gets to be too much to hold inside?
I miss you so much. I miss you every day. I miss your cigarettes, and your coffee cups. I miss putting away the dishes even though I hate it. I’m crying right now, I miss it so much. I miss talking about books, and watching movies, and sitting beside you on the couch. I miss hearing you tell dad to go stuff it, and seeing him smirk when you turn your back. I miss… mom, I miss everything. And it is so hard living without you.
I know you are proud of me… I am proud of me too. I just wish I could share it with you more than a phone call, some pictures, and an email.
I love you. Tell dad I love him too.