I was at church this week and overcome so suddenly with a massive wave of homesickness that I had to course it out with tears outside. I've lived in Florida six months now; not too long, but not too short, either, and with a transition that's been incredibly easy by most people's standards, I'm sure. I haven't felt homesick much. I love Florida's weather. I love Winter Park's pure adorableness and am still finding things within a mile's radius of our house that I never even noticed were there, almost every day. I love our little cottage, and I love our little life. Learning to be "in life" with Kirk has been pretty much the single easiest thing I've ever done, with a few snags here and there, of course, and I'm reminded every day of the blessing a true marriage made in heaven can be. This is life like I never knew it before, and I know enough to be incredibly thankful for this. We both are.

But, the homesickness this week. It should have been expected, especially at Christmas, I know. Some might say it should have been expected sooner, even. But I think the excitement of transitioning here to be with Kirk after over a year of living apart, plus the fact of our great compatibility and the adventure of making a new life in a new place and all the discoveries that come with it, kept me from experiencing much of this homesickness.

Here's what got me to the sad place: realizing how much I love Christmas morning at my mom's house, with my siblings there or on the way, coffee brewing in the coffee pot, coffee cake and other brunch fixings warming up the house as they cook in the oven, and the presents laden 'round the Christmas tree. I'm really going to miss padding around my mom's place in my PJ's and socks on Christmas morning, a coffee mug in hand and a smile on my face, laughter bursting out of my mouth when Bobby makes a joke. Plus, I don't get to voice that "This is the best Christmas ever!" which is what invariably pops out of my mouth without my even realizing it every year after all the presents are done.

Darn it. I guess there's no way to have them both: the old life and the new. I'll try to learn from this bittersweet moment, though, without wishing it away, because it teaches me much about the love inside my heart for those I've left back home. And soon I'll get to share about the things I'm learning from this first Christmas here, in the home and life that we have made together.