Naming Homesickness

Sto·ic

ˈstōik/

noun

noun: stoic; plural noun: stoics
        
      1.  a person who can endure pain or hardship without 

      showing their feelings or complaining.

I'm stoic.  I know it.
My family probably knows it.
My CPE supervisor certainly knows it (she regularly told me so).
In the fullest definition of the word, I am stoic.  And that's ok.

But it's because of my incredible stoicism that I have a hard time admitting it.
(pause for a deep breath and an induced suspense-filled anticipatory moment)

I am homesick.  (Take that stoicism)

It's true. I do miss home. And because I hesitate to admit it out loud to anyone who asks, I confide in the secrecy of my online diary journal blog.  Let me be clear up front, Malaysia (the people, culture, friends, housing, weather, etc.) is not to be blamed for me feeling homesick.

When I was a kid (sometime during elementary school), I had a good friend named Justin.  One weekend I was invited to Justin's house for a sleep over.  To my recollection, it was my first sleep-over at a house that wasn't mine or a family member's.  I was excited, I think.  I remember playing Ninja Turtles in the basement, both action figure and nintendo.  Cowabunga!  I vaguely remember having a snack of some sort and perhaps pizza for dinner.  I remember it was time to go to bed.  Twenty-years-ago-Daniel thinks he laid in bed for hours before admitting he was homesick and wanting to go home, but present-day-Daniel knows it was most likely less than 10 minutes.

It wasn't Justin's fault.  It wasn't his parents' fault.  It wasn't the bed, pillow, or lighting.  It had nothing to do with their house at all.

In my own, uneducated, opinion I think my homesickness was fueled by the absence of 'normals' - routines.  It was the first time being away from everything comfortable, and there is nothing stronger than the silence of a pillow in a strange place to remind you that you're away from your 'normal.'

It wasn't my bed or my pillow.  It wasn't my room or my house.  It wasn't my parents down the hall.  It wasn't my bathroom sink I brushed my teeth in and it wasn't my 'normal'.  I missed the familiar, the routine.

The majority of my conversations thus far with people in Malaysia consist of weather and food, but for the first time a parishioner asked me if I was missing home and if that was hard.  Stoic-Daniel paused and started to shake his head no.  But honest-and-relieved-Daniel interrupted and said, "Yes, actually I am missing home.  Thank you for asking."

He doesn't know it, but it was the exact question I needed him to ask. It was such a relief to be able to say, "Yes, I am missing home" and not feel vulnerable or weak.  Stoic-Daniel would rarely tell someone I barely knew the truth in how I'm feeling, but in that moment it was comforting to know that someone cared enough to create a safe space for me to be honest.

Listen, Malaysia is incredible.  The people are awesome.  Our parishioners are genuine and passionate and caring.  Our housing is more than we could have asked for or expected.  There is food everywhere. Always.  And best of all, I'm with my wife (24/7).  But I can't deny that I, at times, feel homesick, especially this time of year.  And that is no one's fault.

A colleague reminded us this week that the typical period of time for culture shock to set in is 3-4 months.  Well, conveniently for us, 3-4 months coincides with the holidays.

I am missing the normal.  I miss my bed and my pillow.  I miss my family and my dog.  I miss my friends and my things.  I miss the traditions of thanksgiving meals and Christmas gatherings.  I miss getting a tree from the mountains on the Friday after Thanksgiving.   I miss the normalcies and routines of the holidays that I've known for 28 years.  It's no one's fault, and it's ok that I miss them.

I'm not seeking comfort or words of encouragement.  I'm not seeking gifts or packages or things from home.  I'm not (honestly) even writing this for you.  I'm doing this for me.  Naming my feelings (Yes, CPE feeling wheel, I know homesickness is not a feeling).

Home·sick

/'hōm,sik/

adjective

        
      1.  experiencing a longing for one's home during a period of absence from it.

I may be a stoic (and a good one at that), but I am a homesick stoic.  It's no one's fault.  I am simply naming it in the secrecy of my online diary journal blog for myself.

"Miss you too, dad!"