I hope everyone had a lovely, happy holidays.
My sister and I made a Christmas dinner for my parents on Christmas night. They celebrated their 36th wedding anniversary! We made shrimp and squid scampi, roasted vegetables with a reduced balsamic vinegar glaze, and garlic bread.
We also made a most amazing sweet potato casserole, which pretty much single-handedly changed my perception of the word "casserole" (because I don't really like green bean casserole, or tuna casserole, or really any kind of casserole, and I can't help but conjure up images of 1950s perky housewives, hair curlers, poodle skirts, food coloring, and canned goods…)
Is there a more heavenly union than the sweet potato and marshmallow? Bedmates these two should forever be.
In times past, a sojourn home, whether from college, law school, or abroad, meant running around catching up frantically with friends in the city or on the island. This time, it meant nothing more than shedding my winter gear at the door, unearthing my oldest sweatpants and most hideous t-shirts, forgetting my blackberry somewhere in the house, and soaking up every aspect of being ensconced in the warm embrace of my mom, dad, grandmother and sister.
I was much more homesick than I had realized.
This time, perhaps more than at any other time in my life, I felt very acutely the desire to hibernate at home and block out the real world. 2014 is almost upon us, and, yet again, I am left slightly breathless at time's mercurial character - inching slowly by day to day, almost suspended at times, and yet ruthlessly swift when it crashes over us in December. Where has the time gone?
I have spent a lot of my life trying to get away, not because there is anything wrong with home, but because I have always loved and yearned to travel, see the world, live abroad - but it is only when I return that all of these feelings come to the fore.
Homecomings. So simple and yet so fraught with emotion.
I even had a new appreciation for the house, as I tumbled down the carpeted stairs, typed in my sister's old bedroom, foraged in the attic's closets and played mah-johng in the basement. This is where I spent my formative years, and it holds in its creaky eaves memories both good and bad, moments both dark and light. This is the house my family has lived in for the past two decades.
No matter how far I fly or how long I go, this will be home. What will become of it?
The time at home slipped by incomprehensibly, impossibly quickly, but I am so glad I had this time at home, this time.
My sister and I made a Christmas dinner for my parents on Christmas night. They celebrated their 36th wedding anniversary! We made shrimp and squid scampi, roasted vegetables with a reduced balsamic vinegar glaze, and garlic bread.
We also made a most amazing sweet potato casserole, which pretty much single-handedly changed my perception of the word "casserole" (because I don't really like green bean casserole, or tuna casserole, or really any kind of casserole, and I can't help but conjure up images of 1950s perky housewives, hair curlers, poodle skirts, food coloring, and canned goods…)
Is there a more heavenly union than the sweet potato and marshmallow? Bedmates these two should forever be.
I was much more homesick than I had realized.
This time, perhaps more than at any other time in my life, I felt very acutely the desire to hibernate at home and block out the real world. 2014 is almost upon us, and, yet again, I am left slightly breathless at time's mercurial character - inching slowly by day to day, almost suspended at times, and yet ruthlessly swift when it crashes over us in December. Where has the time gone?
I have spent a lot of my life trying to get away, not because there is anything wrong with home, but because I have always loved and yearned to travel, see the world, live abroad - but it is only when I return that all of these feelings come to the fore.
Homecomings. So simple and yet so fraught with emotion.
I even had a new appreciation for the house, as I tumbled down the carpeted stairs, typed in my sister's old bedroom, foraged in the attic's closets and played mah-johng in the basement. This is where I spent my formative years, and it holds in its creaky eaves memories both good and bad, moments both dark and light. This is the house my family has lived in for the past two decades.
No matter how far I fly or how long I go, this will be home. What will become of it?
The time at home slipped by incomprehensibly, impossibly quickly, but I am so glad I had this time at home, this time.
This is lovely.
ReplyDeletethanks Meredith! I was feeling quite nostalgic when posting this :)
ReplyDeleteTotally feel this, but sad to not see you!
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you went home for the holidays. My children and I also went home last Christmas. I didn't spend much time with my father and mother, but I was able to hug them. And I was so glad to celebrate my father's birthday by his side. Hopefully, I can get last minute cheap flights whenever I want to go back. I miss my parents so much.
ReplyDelete