For the weeks leading up to fall break, I avoided planning what I was going to do with my free time as much as possible. I had pretty much decided that I would stay on campus studying and generally not doing much, when a friend from home called. Taylor, from my high school mock trial team, told me how they were in the last crazy week of practice getting ready to go to a tournament in Denver, CO the next week, “I wish you were here,” he said.
I wished I was there too.
And then, a wild idea came into my head. I had fantasized about randomly showing up at home unannounced before, but I assumed that I would do it sometime later in my college career. But why wait? Well, obviously because I can’t just pack a bag, throw it in the car, and drive eleven hours on a whim… I mean… I mean…
“Give me two good reasons why you can’t come,” said Taylor, an hour later.
“Well… I mean… I have this play I want to go to tomorrow night.”
“Oh my gosh…”
This conversation took place around midnight on Tuesday. At 11 o’clock on Wednesday morning, as soon as Western Heritage ended, I ran back to my dorm, threw all my dirty clothes into a suitcase, grabbed every CD I could find, and jumped in the car.
The highlights were lacking:
A wrong turn in Indianapolis
More country music
A service station pumpkin spice cappuccino (nothing like the ones from Starbucks)
Even more country music
Around 10:00 that night, I pulled into my driveway. Needless to say, my parents were a little shocked.
Home was a nice break from school. My mom is the most awesome cook ever. I got to catch up with friends, go to mock trial practice, hang out with my family, and sleep in my own bed. I did absolutely none of the schoolwork I needed to do. But that was completely okay. My three days at home were pretty much three days in heaven.
Because home is more than just familiarity with everything: the radio stations, the sweet tea, the speed limits, and the curves in the roads up the mountain. Home is the place and the people you can come back to from anytime, anywhere in the world and still be able jump into life right where you left off.
So this past week, it’s been back to the real world of paper writing, Spanish exams, and literary analysis. And I really did miss Hillsdale: the tower clock ringing five minutes after every quarter hour, Saga cookies, the gorgeous autumn leaves, the absolute silence while studying in Purgatory (the middle floor of the library), and most of all, all my friends. But it’s comforting to know that my Home will always be there, ready whenever I feel like jumping in the car.