Nostalgia: pleasure and sadness that is caused by remembering something from the past and wishing that you could experience it again.
I did the calculations the other day. I’ve been out of out home for almost 16 months now. And it’s been great, honestly. I’ve had so much freedom, I’ve learnt a lot about myself and life in general, and I’ve had my share of good, bad and amazing times. But one thing I never expected to feel was homesick. I love my parents, I truly without a doubt do. But when I was living at home, I wanted nothing more than to move out and be my own person. So much so, I never thought I’d miss it as much as I do.
It’s not that I want to move back home, that’s not it at all. But it’s more the small things that really get me. I find that when I’m feeling really sick or upset… All I want to do is curl up on my mumma’s couch and have her tell me I’ll be ok. Or when I’m feeling incredibly run down and not wanting to cook, I miss my mumma and her ability to whip together 3 different dishes in an hour and make sure I had seconds before I left the dinner table. I miss all that, and about a 100 other little things that both my parents did for me that I took for granted for when I was living at home.
The thing is, I’m terrible for phone calls though. I just don’t really know what to do or say when I’m on it so I don’t call home very often. It’s a work in progress, but something I’m trying to improve. I do however, love visiting home. So I went to visit them on Saturday and it was exactly what the doctor ordered.
I felt an instant wave of nostalgia as soon as I stepped through the door. I felt home. It was all I could do to not run through the house like I did as a kid. It honestly just felt like all my worries, my stresses and cares just went out the window when I saw their smiling faces.
Even though I had said I’d already eaten, they both went to work cooking up a storm to welcome me. They made some traditional Lao dishes that I never get to eat at home. Mumma made fried rice noodles topped with omelette strips and blood jelly and also fried up some of infamous homemade spring rolls. Dad then made signature dish of sticky rice cakes, which is basically sticky rice dipped in a spicy egg mix and pan fried.
We sat around the table, ate, laughed and caught up on life. It made my heart feel whole.
After that, Mumma took me around her giant garden and we picked things here and there for me to take home. I felt like a kid again, exploring through the garden with her and listening to her talk about it. We ended up getting loads of limes, chillis, kaffir lime leaves, coriander sprouts and the last guava of the season for me to take home.
She also packed me leftovers from lunch, a kilo of homemade sausages plus a bag of avocados that she bought on sale because she knows I like them. Oh, and a bag of wool to keep me busy on my days off.
It was when she was packing the avocados, that I suddenly thought to myself, “here is this woman, who doesn’t have a job and barely any food or money to spare… Yet she is giving me all she can without even a second thought.” It just showed the type of mother and person she is, and at that very moment I just felt so blessed to have her in my life.
As the afternoon wore on, we talked more, had coffee and some of the apple tart I made that morning especially for them. (There isn’t a recipe for it as I still want to perfect the crust, but I promise there will be one soon).
When my boyfriend came to pick me up so we could continue on to our next outing, I felt a great sadness that I had to go, but an equal feeling of happiness because I had been.
I told them both I would visit more often, and I know in my heart of hearts that I will.