August 8, 2007 at 11:17 pm 14 comments

I think about all kinds of things on my drive to work and then back home every day.  It’s about a forty minute commute with traffic.  Plenty of time to mull over goals for the day, plot points, memories, or mental lists of what I’d do if I had a billion dollars.


A few days ago it was raining on the drive.  Not pouring, just that gray, drizzly, overcast kind of summer rainy day.  The kind of rainy day you can accept in February, but just sucks the joy right out of you in the middle of summer.  I’m driving along, humming with the radio and thinking about what I’m going to do with the corner I’d written myself into the night before when I was overwhelmed, just like a kick in the gut, with the desire to go home.  Not home to my apartment, but HOME.

Home to the house where my kids grew up. I wanted, with every molecule in my body, to curl up in the rocking chair in the library with a book, stomp up the wooden steps so I could flop onto world’s most comfortable bed.  I wanted, with a roaring, red passion, to make scrambled eggs in the leaky kitchen, run my hand over the door I decorated in the craft room.  Even with the radio blaring and the windshield wipers swooshing, I thought I could hear the waterfall pumping into the pond and I needed to see the bleeding heart, roses and gladiolas in bloom. 

 By the time I got to work and started answering voice mail the feeling passed.  But I wonder if it was just an emotional reaction to too much change in a short period of time or…if the house misses me.


Entry filed under: Uncategorized.

A New Day What’s Your Theme Song?

14 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Diesel  |  August 9, 2007 at 2:02 am

    On a trip to Michigan a few years ago, I stopped by my childhood home with my wife. I hadn’t seen the inside of it for 15 years. We were sitting in the driveway when the current owners — the same people who bought it from my parents — drove up. I told him who I was, and he insisted on giving us a tour. Turns out, he hadn’t changed ANYTHING. It looked exactly the same as it did the whole time I was growing up. The same ugly 70s wallpaper and everything. It was like a museum of my childhood.

    The guy was an ex-New Yorker, and he told us that people would tell him he needed to update the carpet and stuff, but he told us that he would just say, “Mind ya own bizness!”

  • 2. lauraj  |  August 9, 2007 at 3:51 am

    Even after almost 6 years I still get that longing to be in the home that I once shared with Aaron’s dad and for us all to be a family. That house was torn down a couple years ago. Still sometimes I wish things could have been different but they aren’t and we move on. Big hugs dear!

  • 3. Dewey  |  August 9, 2007 at 4:08 am

    I really know how it feels to miss a house you made into your home. And what it feels like to live in a house or apartment that doesn’t feel like home. I hope you find a home again someday soon, if your apartment doesn’t feel that way.

  • 4. katcampbell  |  August 9, 2007 at 4:30 am

    Diesel – How cool! I had so many childhood homes I couldn’t even begin to go visit them all.

    Laura J – So nice to see you back! Thanks for the hugs, and good luck turning your new place into a home.

    Dewey – The apartment usually feels like home, except for that one sad block of minutes.

  • 5. hammer  |  August 9, 2007 at 5:14 am

    I know the feeling, but the reasons for leaving are still there even though absence makes the heart grow fonder.

  • 6. katherine.  |  August 9, 2007 at 5:28 am

    I was frequently of two minds in a similar situation. Even now after all these years there is some sort of pull…

  • 7. DaveM  |  August 9, 2007 at 10:38 am

    Kat I am sure you will go back home very soon after all its your house as well..

  • 8. nessa  |  August 9, 2007 at 4:52 pm

    I have felt that way on occasion about a place that I never really lived (really just visits) but to me is always home. For me it involves a sense of security, of happy and close family times, of less responsibilities and just being carefree.

  • 9. John Linna  |  August 10, 2007 at 5:00 am

    I miss the house Betty and I lived in for thirty years. There we raise our kids. It had so many memories.

  • 10. frothingatlemouse  |  August 10, 2007 at 5:04 am

    Your description made me feel perfectly that wrenching longing thingie. For whatever, whenever.

  • 11. Stacy  |  August 10, 2007 at 7:50 pm

    All those memories….how could you not miss it?

  • 12. jackiesgarden  |  August 11, 2007 at 12:11 am

    Funny, isn’t it, how those feelings wash over us and we can’t explain them? You’ll figure it out, Kat. When it’s time.

  • 13. Wanderlust Scarlett  |  August 11, 2007 at 12:36 am

    That’s so sweet and left little pangs in my heart! I miss old long gone memories like that too… far away things that will never be again.

    A good nap helps.
    Or remembering them with someone who knows what you are talking about, someone who shared those places and times with you.

    Scarlett & V.

  • 14. katcampbell  |  August 11, 2007 at 6:29 am

    Hammer – Absolutely right. I had a choice between keeping the albatross of a house, or rescuing the marriage. Rescue seemed more appropriate.

    Katherine – I probably will be too. As long as its just once in awhile it’ll be okay.

    Dave M – Probably not. Most of the time, wherever I am is home.

    Nessa – I don’t know if that would be really cool, or really frustrating!

    Dr. John – 30 years would be hard to get over! We only had our house 15.

    Frothing – Thanks.

    Stacy – I know. Thanks for sympathizing.

    Jackie – Yup, wait around long enough and things have a tendency to fall in place.

    Scarlett – What nice suggestions. I should have called up one of kids and talked about old times.


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