I have this pretty great quality (well, I think it is) that comes in handy with the kind of job I'm doing right now; I don't really get homesick. During the soon to be decade that I've been living in Denmark (please don't remind me of how old one has to be to be able to say that!), I can't say I've been particularly homesick at any time. Sure it would be great to be able to curl up on moms couch and get taken cared of when you’re sick, but me sick isn’t really me (I’m the biggest baby and bitch combined into one not very charming person at those times…), so it doesn’t count. The point is, I’m comfortable being away from family and friends and I’m quite quick at making a new place feel like home and I’m not constantly wishing to be somewhere else.
That being said, I do like vacations! The last couple of months I’ve been imagining myself on a sandy beach, under a huge parasol with a good book and a salty drink by my side looking out on a vast beautiful sea. It’s been this kind of mental break from the hard work and dessert sand (that is in no way close to as marvellous as the beach sand!) that I was living in. The image of coming home felt too far off and maybe even like too much of a hassle to be of much use. But then things changed and everything got turned on its head. Instead of the beautiful beaches of Zanzibar my vacation has turned into a couple of days of pure relaxation and quiet time in Scandinavia. I’ve had some stress free days at a friend’s house, some a bit more stressful days in Stockholm and now I’ve landed at my moms for a week of doing absolutely nothing. Here I get up, get breakfast, walk around in a t-shirt and panties for hours and listen to moms well-known stories that I already know the ending of. If we’re up for it we take a walk, maybe get a cup of coffee in town and I listen and listen. I organise her stuff – closets, storage-room, old flowers and books. I wish for special food and she makes it. We eat way to late and I complain, but that’s just the way it works here so I try not to complain too much. I go to bed later than I normally do and she comes in and sits on my bedside and we talk for another half hour, then she kisses me goodnight and I sleep better than I have in months and months.
In less than a week I’ll get on a plane again and even though I won’t be homesick once I’m gone, I’ll be sad to leave, like I always am. This place might not have famous beaches, margaritas and exciting new stories to tell, but it’s home and having this base, being able to come here and get recharged with love and care is what let’s me do stuff and go places where I have to give everything I have and then some. I always know there’s more where it came from so I know I’ll never run out.
That being said, I do like vacations! The last couple of months I’ve been imagining myself on a sandy beach, under a huge parasol with a good book and a salty drink by my side looking out on a vast beautiful sea. It’s been this kind of mental break from the hard work and dessert sand (that is in no way close to as marvellous as the beach sand!) that I was living in. The image of coming home felt too far off and maybe even like too much of a hassle to be of much use. But then things changed and everything got turned on its head. Instead of the beautiful beaches of Zanzibar my vacation has turned into a couple of days of pure relaxation and quiet time in Scandinavia. I’ve had some stress free days at a friend’s house, some a bit more stressful days in Stockholm and now I’ve landed at my moms for a week of doing absolutely nothing. Here I get up, get breakfast, walk around in a t-shirt and panties for hours and listen to moms well-known stories that I already know the ending of. If we’re up for it we take a walk, maybe get a cup of coffee in town and I listen and listen. I organise her stuff – closets, storage-room, old flowers and books. I wish for special food and she makes it. We eat way to late and I complain, but that’s just the way it works here so I try not to complain too much. I go to bed later than I normally do and she comes in and sits on my bedside and we talk for another half hour, then she kisses me goodnight and I sleep better than I have in months and months.
In less than a week I’ll get on a plane again and even though I won’t be homesick once I’m gone, I’ll be sad to leave, like I always am. This place might not have famous beaches, margaritas and exciting new stories to tell, but it’s home and having this base, being able to come here and get recharged with love and care is what let’s me do stuff and go places where I have to give everything I have and then some. I always know there’s more where it came from so I know I’ll never run out.
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