Just Homesick

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It’s odd when you move.

You start noticing things that are suddenly missing in your life; weird and rather mundane things that you never even noticed while you were at home. Sounds and smells you never focused on before become part of the home-sickness. You suddenly really miss them and wish they were in your periphery again, the quiet unassuming remnants of home that never ventured into your radar when you were a full time occupant.

Things like the sound of my Dad coughing, I could recognise my Dad just from his cough if I needed, it was a familiar background sound that I heard daily but never focused my attention on.

I miss hearing that cough.

I miss hearing the recognizable footsteps of each family member going up and down the stairs. I could even tell you what mood those footsteps were in, sometimes.

I especially miss my Mum bringing me tea in the morning, that’s laziness talking really, but my bleary eyed and drowsy self misses waking up to the sound of the door creaking open slowly and the smell of a good cup of brew drifting in. She’d sometimes snap ‘wake up!’ at me as she placed the mug on my, I’d like to say bedside table but it was a chair by the bed, but I’d happily take a good snapping with a Tetley by my side.

Although I’ve kinda gone off Tetley now… I think they’ve done something to their recipe… just doesn’t taste the same.

I’m ‘totes’ into Rooibos nowadays.

So urban life, how does it compare to the countryside?

Well it’s dirty, I can feel it on my face and in my lungs, I wash my hair everyday and can’t imagine not scrubbing at my face twice a day now.

But there is transport here. No duh. I can go ‘whereves’ I want! No waiting days for the next train to take me home from a shopping trip. If I miss my last train home I know I could walk there easily enough, mind the stabbing, mugging and potential raping, but I could do it, safety permitting. It’s a very liberating feeling, I’ve not had this kind of freedom since I was at University, which was three years ago… a long time to wait for the ability to walk out my house and go somewhere.

I miss running though, since moving to London I haven’t had the courage to plod the streets and shed the pounds of home-sickness-comfort-eating fat I’ve piled on.  My running route at home was awesome, just over 10K with varying terrains from moors, woods and fields… *goes misty eyed*…

And a damned great big hill!

*thuds back to reality*… maybe I don’t miss that hill too much.

I’ve got roads, roads through estates, roads through parks, roads by canals, roads by the Thames… roads by more roads.

I’m going to have to brave it at some point but I know I was blessed with the best running route imaginable at home.

I miss my cats ignoring me, I don’t care that Millie probably only sat on my lap 3 times in the whole time we’ve had her, but I miss her black fuzzy fatty presence. Her and Diesel both would choose the armrests of our sofas over our thighs, they would stare at us in such an enticing way that each time we would hope against hope and coo at them to sit on us, only to have them jump on us to reach the back of the sofa.

Mind games.

Damned cats.

I miss Millie saying ‘ham’ actually saying ‘ham’, she somehow knew what it was and would always be there to plead me to give it to her while I was making my sandwich.

I’ve recorded her saying it, there is indisputable evidence, so don’t even try to denounce my claim.

I miss how our house functioned, from the creaky floorboards, low ceilings, noisy pipes and freezing cob walls, I was used to dealing with these issues. I knew which part of the landing to avoid in order to be quieter, I knew when to duck my head when I was in the living room, I knew what to do when the hot tap decided to randomly howl and I was ‘used’ to the cold…. as much as I disliked it.

I miss having to press the kitchen door hard against a piece of makeshift Velcro my Dad had stuck between the door and tabletop in order to keep it open rather than barely ajar.

Anyway, enough of the weird things you won’t really get or understand… down to the basics.

It’s the familiarity I miss, the everyday, the ordinary, the usual.

But most of all, I miss my family.

My rocks.

My bolts.

My glue.

Leaving them behind was always going to be tough, so you’ve got a lot to live up to London.

Don’t disappoint.