You know that feeling when you wake up abruptly in the middle of the night knowing with every ounce in your body that you are just about to throw up? When the back of your mouth goes dry, you become extremely dizzy and weak and your legs tingle knowing you have to get out of bed and walk to the commode, sit on the floor, and cry just waiting for it to be over with? Well, this is kinda how it feels each time I have to look at Jake while walking through security in an airport, or watch him board a bus, airplane, or car. Last night I didn't sleep. I kept saying, "its only 4 weeks Emily!" I hate leaving day. It happens too often in our little lives. I do however, get to be welcomed by my Sarah, momma, and dad at the Tulsa airport. Dad will probley be parked in the 'loading only space' wearing some type of overly starched shirt tucked into a pair of overly starched jeans up past his belly telling the security man that he is 'loading' while my mom and sarah wait inside for me and hug me and having to hurry so that dad doesn't get a ticket. And then we will drive home.
It is so hard to have two distinct and special homes. I confuse myself when talking to someone in the family because I always refer to 'here' as Arkansas. For instance, the other day I was talking to Jacque and asked someone if they were coming down here with the full thought process of thinking I was in Arkansas. Mind you, I was on the beach watching the ocean during the conversation. It is so confusing. When I am at 'home' and in my bed while Jake is away somewhere, I just imagine that I am back at ' hawaii home' going to sleep in our little house imagining the pillow beside me to be Jake. But when I am here, I close my eyes and imagine that I am at 'arkansas home' with the window beside my bed, As Time Goes By playing in the background or listening to Sarah wake up early in the morning trying to beat me to the bathroom. I love the fact when I am here I can see my husband every single day and live in paradise while going to the beach, learning a new recipe, or taking a drive down to Kailua for a snowcone. But, Hawaii doesn't have my sisters. Aubree isn't making gagging noises in the mornings (which I came accustomed to sadly). Sarah isn't here reminding me that I do have another half of me. Hawaii doesn't have a dog running up our stairs sounding like an overweight pig ready to pounce and suffocate you in the mornings. My dad isn't here checking all the cows, trading some gun or the other, sitting outside under the tree with one of my uncles, or watching the hunting channel. My momma is so far away it hurts; she can't french braid my hair, take me to get my nails done, or buy me something special that is supposed to be only between us. She isn't here to turn on Harry Potter or to cook dinner, drive up to Booneville with us, or hollar up in the mornings "Rise and Shine!" On Saturday nights, I don't get ready to go out to eat with my Aunt Sandy, Uncle Shot, Chanel, and meme and tata.
But recently Arkansas always is missing one thing... my husband.
I miss our church family. I miss my best friend Amanda. I miss hummingbirds, my own cow, the sandifers across the road, an endless closet of movies, my mother-in-law, and people who are not ashamed to proclaim that Jesus is Lord!
But here, Jake is and when he is around, all of that dims a little because Jake is so very precious to me. But on leaving days, all of the memories and 'homes' become distinct and different.
I am sitting on the couch knowing I need to get up and pack but I just want to sit here and look out our window. I want to learn about Ruth and how she gave up everything with a raw faith and made a new home. I want to listen to Jake walk up the stairs and come over here and give me a huge hug and kiss and look at me with those same eyes that I have grown to love in the past 9 years.
But I will board that plane tonight with mixed emotions, pass through the security line and look back to see my husband standing there knowing I can't go back to him and hear from here for days/weeks and fly back to my momma, sarah, aubree, and dad. To my best friend Amanda Shook, to my 12 string guitar waiting to be tuned and played, to my beautiful Escape, to my butcher block sandwhiches, to my in-laws, and to my Arkansas home which I have missed very much.