Emotions are funny. They creep up in the strangest ways, sometimes totally unexpected. This weekend feelings of homesickness were looming. I fought them knowing that I had a day of castle tours planned for Saturday and Thanksgiving dinner with friends on Sunday. Surely that would resolve any unwanted feelings of homesickness.
Fast forward to Sunday night and I’m driving home, elated by my wonderful Thanksgiving dinner. But then there they are, those homesick feelings are back. I drive pondering my homesickness listening to Mumford and Sons. (There’s something about their sound that I find myself needing in such moments.) The irrational parts of me are pissed, “You’re so weak! Get over yourself.”
The rational, gentler, part of me says, “You know it’s only because the holidays are approaching. This will pass.” I start recounting all the wonderful things from this weekend, from my travels, and the promise my travels still hold. As if my mantra I keep reminding myself “this will pass.”
That’s a curious thought. What will pass? Of course the homesick feeling will pass. But do I want all of this to pass? Do I want the travel to pass? Living here to pass? Of course in someways I do. I miss my boyfriend, my family, my friends and my bed. God I miss my bed. So yes, this will pass. The homesickness will subside and revisit and subside and revisit. This time here in Germany, traveling Europe, will pass. But the memories, they won’t. The memories, the sweet and the not so sweet, they are permanently etched
in my soul. Over time they’ll evolve and come to mean different things. But pass? Never. It’s in moments like this evening that I am so incredibly grateful for my photographs. Will my photos ever become famous? Probably not. But then, that’s not really the point is it?