Let’s get one thing straight: I’m never homesick.

I probably should but I just never have been. Even when I was little, even when I went to camp for the first time by myself, I didn’t miss home. I’m too independent for that I guess.

So imagine my surprise when I just got a picture if my dad blowing out his birthday candles and had that feeling in my chest that there were going to be tears in my eyes soon.

I just talked on the phone with the family two minutes before because I have to lead the birthday song, even when I’m not there. It was a rather short conversation- just singing happy birthday and then hanging up, my mother promising to send the before mentioned picture. And I’ve done this before. I’ve missed a few birthdays. But they always call and I always lead the song.

I think it’s something about birthdays. I never used to like birthdays. Well, my own. I like other peoples. And my family always does birthdays together. Nothing big. Just cake, ice cream, and pictures.

Birthdays are just… They’re a reason to let people know you care about them. Yes, you should do that everyday. But on someone’s birthday, they’re supposed to get to feel special all day long. On people’s birthdays, they should feel like people want them in the world. Like everyone they love is on their side. They should get to feel like the sun rose just for them on that day. And I like my family, you know? I like them a lot. But I never get homesick.

Except on their birthdays.



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