it's ugly

For the most part, I'm a pretty positive person.

I don't like to fester on the bad days.  I try to push through them, remembering that tomorrow brings with it a fresh start.

I usually only let the sadness of being homesick, of wanting my mom and dad, to linger for a few minutes before brushing it off and moving forward.  I avoid things that I know will make me sad and create happy places in dark corners.

But sometimes, every once in awhile, I let the storms hit hard.

I feel the wind twist and the clouds build a fortress around me.  I hear the first few raindrops and instead of running for cover I grab my metal pole and head to the hills.

I let it crash and burn and hurt.

And it's ugly.

My life is this constant reminder of how well bitter compliments sweet.

My daily life is so, so wonderful.

I love it all.

The long days, the short nights.  My friends that have become my sisters.  Andrew's family that has become my own.  My husband, my kids.  Each strand has woven together and created this blanket that I cover myself with.

But I live my daily life Here.

And Here is 1200 miles from one home.  500 miles from another.

And, while I miss my family every single day, some days it's harder then others.

Sometimes I get so, so jealous of friends who can have lunch with their moms.  I wonder if they know how lucky they are to be able to drop by their dad's work or babysit their nieces and nephews.  Wonder what it feels like to never miss a big family gathering.

And it's bittersweet.

Because I love this life here, but still miss the life there.

And it's ugly but beautiful and sometimes that's confusing for me to sort through.

The storm passes.

I seek out a break in the clouds and rally myself out of the darkness.  I remember that the good outweighs the bad and feel that strong confirmation that where I am is in fact where I'm meant to be.

And I thank God for airline benefits and a husband that gets that homesick doesn't equal discontent.

This life requires balance.

And frequent trips home.