Homesick

Autumn has always been my favorite season since I moved from Arizona to Massachusetts as a child and found out there were such things as seasons. It's the colors, the crisp air, the wind (oh, the wind!), the clear blue skies and crunchy leaves swirling about, the fragrant damp earth and leaf piles in the rain, pumpkin patches and apple picking, corn stalks, mulled cider, pies galore and the anticipation of the first snow. Oh, and of course the holidays. Thanksgiving being my favorite by far.

I've spent enough time in Seattle to know that fall here means rain and mist and evergreens that keep on greening all winter. The leaves will turn in some places, but I won't walk out in the morning to see the lacy frost decorating the fallen leaves, our breath won't lead the paths we walk, and there will be no looking forward to sledding and snow forts.

Admittedly, today is everything autumn should be, and I'm enjoying the snap in the air, the wind tossing my hair about and the sunshine sprinkling everything with gold. But it doesn't keep me from missing being back east.

I long for those solitary bike rides on the Capital Crescent Trail, the Lincoln Memorial looking out at autumn in every direction, and being able to duck into a free museum to warm up.

I always loved the drive to Pennsylvania, and my house that I'm starting to miss more each time I try to remind myself how briefly I lived there.

Wishing I were moments from my parents so that they didn't have to miss Bella and we wouldn't have to wonder if she'll be reluctant to meet them again, always for the first time.

Missing my best friend and all things New England, knowing she's steeped in everything I miss so much. Knowing that she hasn't seen her own goddaughter since she was 7 days old, and not knowing when they will meet again.

Wanting so badly to be at home for the holidays, holed up with a cozy fire, comforters and maple tea, trying to tell by scent whether the pumpkin pie is ready to come out of the oven.

And yet, I need to snap out of this wishing. Get out there and enjoy what I'm missing by sitting on this side of the window, nostalgic for things I think I can't have. We have pumpkins here, and hay rides, sunny days and rainy ones. My mom's coming in a few days and her trip here will be too short, but they always are. I still have my bike here, too. I can take it out whenever I want, it's me who hasn't done that. I have leaves to collect and free apples for pie from from Rocky's tree.

So I probably won't get home to my parents and my best friend for the holidays, but I wouldn't have in Virginia either. Retail is not a forgiving place to be during the holidays and even when my parents were just two hours away we struggled to meet up every few months. There's no way Dave and I would both be able to get the time off, even if we had the resources to fly out east. As much as I want to be with my parents, relaxing in guilt-free vacation time just like when I was in college, there's no way I could leave Dave alone on our first holiday as three. We are my family now. I'd like to be closer to everyone, but none of us is settled down and until we can decide on a place to grow old together, I'll always long to be somewhere else.