As far back as I can remember, I’ve carried a constant feeling of homesickness every time I am away from my dwelling. While the feeling has manifested itself differently over the years, it’s always there. That gnawing discomfort that sits in the base of your stomach, tugging at your heart-strings with no mercy.
It all began one day when my Mom let me know I’d be starting kindergarten. At first it sounded like a great idea, but when I saw the bright yellow school bus chugging down my road, my stomach hit my kneecaps. I frantically ran into my backyard, giving my Mom and Aunt a mad-goose chase to grab me before the bus drove away. I thrashed about and yelled out, “I just need to spend time with my Barbies!” Life priorities, after all.
Much like a bad 1980’s comedy movie, when my Mom brought me to the bus…
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