I live a long way from home. A very very long way from home. I live so far away from home, that I don't get to visit more than every two to three years. I would love to go home this year. Because it will have been two years in the fall. But it ain't happenin'... and I'm a little sad. Not terribly... but a little. I like my fall visits to Germany. I like the weather, the walks, the wine fests. I like the small town my brother lives in. I used to live there, and I happily think back to the times, when I lived in a very cute, old house on the second floor. The house was built in the 1920s, the old wooden floors cracked under every step. There would have been no sneaking out secretly. Not that anybody had to sneak out secretly, because I lived there alone, after my daughter moved in with her father. I loved that old house. Next to me lived an Italian family. They grew fruits and vegetables in the huge garden... and they always shared with me. On Saturdays the old train would drive by, tooting loudly, and people were sitting in the old cars waving. I'd make my shopping list and walk to the grocery store for important things and delicious rolls with pumpkin seeds for breakfast. I'd call my friend, and we'd eat together. We'd plan what to do at night. Sometimes she'd spend the night. Those were good times, although they didn't last. ;) I met my husband!!
Like every German I have sought out other Germans in the US. I am in a group of Germans, I am on a Germans in America yahoogroup, and I know where all the good German food places are. Suddenly you become friends with people you would have never sought out at home. Because suddenly certain differences, that you pay a lot of attention to at home, don't matter. What matters, is that you are in the same boat. You're an "alien" in the US... a German "alien" in the US, although I like to refer to myself as permanent resident these days.
My German friends often tell me about the care packages they receive from home. Every now and then their parents or siblings pack a box of stuff from home and send them. I once was at a friend's house, just when she received such a package. It was like Christmas and birthday all in one. The little treasures and goodies in the box made my mouth water. I don't know what it is with my family and not sending any packages. It's possible that I never communicated the desire for such lovely packages. When I tell my dad on the phone, that I'm going to send them a box with this and that, he always says I don't need to, because it's too expensive. Maybe that's what it is. The fact is, I don't ever receive care packages from my family. And stupid me, I don't dare asking them for care packages now... Because I've lived here for over 9 years. Why would anyone ask for frequent care packages from home after 9 friggin' years, right?
Of course I could ask my future sister-in-law. I've known her for a couple of years only. Maybe it's not too late yet. Yes, maybe I'm a big baby to want care packages from home. So there, I'll stomp my feet and push out my lower lip and pout. It's a lovely day to pout.