it hurts like home

I was way too productive today.

Besides forgetting my text book, so I can't fulfill the ridiculous and obligatory 'writing to think' activity for the week, I wrote five lesson plans this morning, made my father think I really love him, and helped my mom realize she needs to do something before she falls apart and I really get stuck here. Forever.

You see, if you haven't picked up on, either from previous posts or actual interaction with me, I have a strained relationship with my dad. But, I know he appreciates really odd things. Really girly things. Like cards. With mushy words. SO, it being father's day and all, I got one, that without reading it all the way through, I knew it would make him think good things of me. Which it did. Mission accomplished. And there was no knockdowndragout fight at breakfast either. That was pretty great too.

My mother has MS. And is kind of falling apart. Slowly and painfully. It sucks seeing her struggle like she does. I try to encourage her to do things like yoga or water aerobics, that right now would be way beyond her pain tolerance to do. But the movement of it would help. At least, I have to believe it will help. Otherwise, I have nothing but invalidity to look forward to for her. And I can't do that.

I'm beginning to realize that, while I left home hoping never to return, I can now never go home. I am too old to need my mommy, too stubborn to need my daddy, and even though sometimes I feel like running back to that unfamiliar house and just crying on the floor, something bubbles up from somewhere and pushes me forward. Is it like this for everyone? Will we always feel an empty space where our home was? Where it should maybe still be?