Homesick

 I’m not depressed, I’m just homesick. It’s one of those things that are hard to explain; it’s a feeling of loneliness inside even when surrounded with people. Home is a place in your mind, filled with memories and emotions. The only way I seem to be able to get some comfort is when petting my cat; the feel of her soft fur and the rumble of her purr remind me of her unconditional love and give me a sense of home. It’s my own fault if I miss Quebec, my French speaking country, if I miss Montreal, my home town, if I miss the best parents in the whole world, if I miss my best friend Roots, if I miss my grandma, my aunts and uncles, and my cousin Sophie. I left at 19, not really knowing what I was getting into especially not that I would never come back home. I’m now 38 and for the last 19 years I have made a new life for myself in the US. I spent half my life as a Canadian and now an American citizen, Texas is what I call home… but most of all, this is where I found my soul mate and Larry gives me my sense of home, his family and my new friends are my home. I have a good life and my husband makes me the happiest girl in the world and somehow inside me awakes once in a while that little butterfly that brings a twinkle of sadness in my eye that makes me miss where I come from. The prickly cactus and the hot sun will never replace the white snow and the sweet maple syrup.