Going home.

J and I went to visit my parents this weekend. Many moons ago, after J and I got married, I had a hard time being away from my parents. They didn't even live very far away. We saw them on a regular basis. But it was hard for me to start a new life that didn't include them in the same way it used to. But, eventually, I learned to love having my own family and doing things my own way.

Then my parents moved away. My mother got a job as a travel nurse and they spent a while living in various places (Arizona, California, North Carolina) that were far away from us. I missed seeing them, but it was nice to have the space and I think it was good for J and I.

Now they are a relatively short drive away (4 to 5 hours), although I wish they were closer. Even though the house they are living in now isn't where I grew up (in fact, they are only renting it) and I don't have a lot of memories of things that have happened there, it's still, in a way, home. I think wherever my parents are will always be home, in a sense.

Although my relationship with my parents is different now, because I'm now an adult and married and on my own, it's still so very important to me. I still like to have their approval. I still want them to think a lot of me and to be proud of who I've become. I still want my mom's cooking more than I want anyone else's.

We didn't do much while we were at their house. Sat around and talked, played on our computers, played some cards, ate some delicious food, did some shopping...but it's always nice just to be together. To be home.