So I love my family... I had a great Thanksgiving. My Aunt makes some of the most delicious food and spending time all of us in one place is so great! My cousin and I have such good times. I am so blessed and I thank God for each one of them. The thing is... I'm a military brat. So it seems that no matter how much I love them and how great my time is, I don't feel completely at home. And that's not exactly true. I mean Michelle and I have the greatest adventures together and I wouldn't change a moment of our time together - okay so maybe of few of the moments that Michelle remembers when we were kids and apparently I terrorized her, but honestly I don't remember having access to duct tape as an 8 year old. And I'm sure if I did anything it was because she seemed to have so much freedom and feel so comfortable at our grandparents house and I was just the temporary grandchild. The one that goes home and you only think about again next summer.
That's not to say that I don't know my family loves me - because I know they do... and I honestly love them. But I don't feel at home there, because it's not home. I guess home, for me, is keeping in touch with the people I love - and I'm starting to get used to that. What I'm working on now is understanding that for people who have had the priviledge of living in one place and having roots, is that they don't think about keeping in touch when people aren't around everyday. And I'm learning - or hoping - that just because they don't call me, and I have to be the one to call them, doesn't mean they don't care, it's just we have different concepts of home and family.
So this Thanksgiving I was blessed by seeing my family in a new way. A good way. And understanding them just a little better.