Missing home

Right now, I am fighting off the strongest urge to go home. I have a week more of this trip… But all I want do is go home, wrap my kids into a big hug, and be in my own house.

Saturday , we moved locations. I got comfortable in our first location… Yes the dwelling was much poorer than I imagined but my host mom was tons of fun and I had access to Wi-Fi any time I was at home or at the school. While the environment was different from what I am used to, I adjusted quickly and felt comfortable.

My new location is much different. I have been looking forward to it for quite some time… It is located on the beach. The beach is one of my favorite places in the world.

However, this location means I have a different host family. My host family is very nice… And their home is much nicer than the one I was at before; but, I do not have access to Wi-Fi, and I cannot communicate with them. It is a hard feeling.

I have known for too long that I am addicted to my smart phone. That I am addicted to being “connected” constantly.

But losing the availability to have access to my family or to the few friends that I text on this trip, is very, very hard.

I have always struggled with connection and feelings of loneliness, and I’m trying very hard to overcome both of these things. I can recognize the bravery and courage that I have had on this trip.

Every day has felt like an accomplishment… A day where I was able to do something I never imagined I would do.

But never knowing when I will have an opportunity to talk to my family – – my husband, my sweet kids–is incredibly hard. It sounds like a first world problem, and it probably is, but my feelings are real and I feel ready to come home to them.

The scenery is incredible. The beach is amazing. The weather is tropical. And it is everything I always thought it would be.

… But it is not my home. It is not my family.

I miss them.

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