My thoughts while riding the tram home from work…
Weird how homesickness catches you at the most bizarre times.
I sat down, facing forwards, and the older man came and sat down in front of me. He was facing backwards, staring out the window like me, just watching the corporate worker-bees buzz home.
Through the safety of my sunglasses, I was able to just stare and study him, as we sat with our knees barely touching (tram seats are made for midgets and certainly not those with long legs like myself.) There was just something so familiar about this man…and I couldn’t put my finger on it…and as I studied his hands, I realized that he reminded me so much of my dad. He had the same hands as my dad…how do I say this without offending?? Err…umm…not-so-young-looking hands, with the little dark spots and wrinkly fingers. His mouth was turned down, not in a frown, just a relaxed state. My dad and I have the same mouth (as my mom has always told me) and looking at his mouth just made me smile. I scanned down to the floor and there was my dad again, with pasty white skinny chicken legs. At this point I was smiling, but my eyes had welled up with tears, just thinking about how much I miss my family at times.
I looked away, only to see one of the usual “unique” people that ride the tram, and asked myself “why does that girl think massive scorpion earrings is a good look?”….and then got distracted by a classic Loud Talker, which caused me to count to 5 and breathe deeply as I cringed at their simple Loudness and had a WhyMustYouTalkOnYourCellSooLoudly moment, which in turn made me think about my mom because she IS one of those people when it comes to Cell Phone Voice Volume, and I chuckled to myself. I turned my iPod up to let Matt Pond PA drown out the irritation, and suddenly I was all calm again, and studying the hands of my dad’s look-alike while we awkwardly tried to avoid brushing knees. I arrived at my stop…..and was actually a little reluctant to get off just because I was enjoying the ride and liked my tram buddy with the wrinkly hands.
People in Australia always ask me if I am homesick, and say “wow, don’t you miss your family?” and I feel guilty most of the time when I say, “actually no, I don’t miss them every second of the day like you might think.” The thing about being in another country is that my life is totally different and not having family around is no big deal, because Melbourne + Family doesn’t go together. LA + Family is my normal…. However, if I was in LA, and my whole family was out of town, I am sure I would miss them immensely. Being the one that gets to leave is far easier than being the one who was left behind. My family’s life is normal except that I am missing. So on a daily basis, the homesickness isn’t that bad….but on the days when you are sitting on a tram, staring at a man who reminds you of your father, and the only thing you want for the rest of the day is just a simple hug from your parents, those are the moments where the homesickness is bad, and when you wrestle with your choices, and wrestle with yourself over where you are living, and why, and why not, and all of that. But…… knowing that I will get to hug them in about 24 days enabled me to sigh, wipe my eyes and get off the tram.
