Easter Eve
I went to confession today because I'm Catholic and tomorrow is Easter and somehow the two are related. I don't know why, they just are. Don't ask me why: I don't know, and this is Catholicism, a religion where you do as you're told and never ask questions.
I said my sins quietly while mumbling heavily, for while I was waiting to enter the confessional I discovered that its sound insulation was sub-par. As in: had I not been humming a bit I would've learned things about those who preceeded me that I should not know.
Thus the humming, then the mumbling. And the quick saying of penance before I left.
In other news: I ordered some prints via adorama today to be shipped home, hopefully they'll arrive next week. And I shipped a 10-pound package of papers and the like home yesterday that should arrive on Monday. Hey, it's 10 pounds I won't have to carry on the plane.
My goodness, three weeks left. Before I know it I'll be back in my family's house in Council Grove, KS. But the question on my mind is: will it be home?
I'm not saying that I'm afraid it changed while I was away. The big blue house I grew up in was my home for a long time; then I went to college. I spent a year and a half going back and forth between the two, as many students do, and rarely being in the same place for more than 5 days.
Then one day my little brother, who isn't so little these days, told me it wasn't my house anymore during a dispute over the presence of my things. Those words cut deep, because when he said it I realized that it wasn't home, either. For the first time I noticed that the feeling of comfort I'd get from being there was gone, the warmth and calm replaced by iciness and unease.
I doubt that has changed, but I still hold out a twinge of hope that I'll find home again in a few weeks.
And even if I don't, it's OK.
I know in my heart that we all eventually make it back to our one true home at the end of the road, and that is all I really need.
I said my sins quietly while mumbling heavily, for while I was waiting to enter the confessional I discovered that its sound insulation was sub-par. As in: had I not been humming a bit I would've learned things about those who preceeded me that I should not know.
Thus the humming, then the mumbling. And the quick saying of penance before I left.
In other news: I ordered some prints via adorama today to be shipped home, hopefully they'll arrive next week. And I shipped a 10-pound package of papers and the like home yesterday that should arrive on Monday. Hey, it's 10 pounds I won't have to carry on the plane.
My goodness, three weeks left. Before I know it I'll be back in my family's house in Council Grove, KS. But the question on my mind is: will it be home?
I'm not saying that I'm afraid it changed while I was away. The big blue house I grew up in was my home for a long time; then I went to college. I spent a year and a half going back and forth between the two, as many students do, and rarely being in the same place for more than 5 days.
Then one day my little brother, who isn't so little these days, told me it wasn't my house anymore during a dispute over the presence of my things. Those words cut deep, because when he said it I realized that it wasn't home, either. For the first time I noticed that the feeling of comfort I'd get from being there was gone, the warmth and calm replaced by iciness and unease.
I doubt that has changed, but I still hold out a twinge of hope that I'll find home again in a few weeks.
And even if I don't, it's OK.
I know in my heart that we all eventually make it back to our one true home at the end of the road, and that is all I really need.
posted by Logan C. Adams at 3/26/2005 10:30:00 PM
2 Comments:
Come now, you know Kansas will feel like home.
Think about it:
When was the last time some complete stranger said "Hi," or even just smiled at you?
When was the last time you saw the stars?
When was the last time you were in a truly wide-open space?
When was the last time you breathed fresh country air?
$5 says that the answer to each of these questions is "The last time I was in Kansas," and that's why even if "home" isn't in the big blue house, "home" is Kansas.
A really good comment, indeed.
Here are my answers, in order:
-every homeless person wanting money
-I have sensitive eyes, and still see them here
-Standing on the national mall, and on the roof of the freedom forum building
-in Missouri before we got to the airport
Ok, pay up, bucko.
Post a Comment
<< Home