home

i didn’t go to korea to visit my parents this week as planned.  it must sound so bad.  but i feel really really good about this.  i know my parents love me.  i know i love them.  but where does the desire to want to see them or to spend time with them come from?  i’m not really getting a huge overwhelming sense of guilt nor the desire to go visit them.  i have felt this way for a few years now.  okay, maybe i have felt this way for over a decade.  living away from one’s parents, when you visit your parents, one would think that you feel at home when you go visit, right?  i don’t feel like i am visiting home when i go to visit my parents in korea.  all i feel is that i am visiting my parents in the place they happen to be living.  korea doesn’t seem like the place in which i grew up.  i don’t feel at home there.  i don’t feel at home with my parents either.  strangely, but honestly, i feel at home in otherways, in other places, with other people.  feeling at home is a mysterious and delicate feeling.  and lately i don’t know where i feel at home.  i sure do love to rest on my bed though, in my room, in the apartment i live with my sister.  🙂