Stealth Emotional Attack

The view I had back toward Washington on the ferry to Canada a couple months ago.

Tonight we went to a concert of Handel's "Messiah" at the old Church of the Holy Spirit down the street here on nice, comfortable Borwinstrasse.  It was a beautiful, foggy evening with hazy streetlamps and slick cobblestone streets.  The tickets were cheap.  The place was packed.  The concert was amazing.

Then, right smack dab in the middle of the Hallelujah chorus--the part where the sopranos keep singing "King of Kiiiiiiings" higher and higher and higher-- I burst into an uncontrolled sob-fest.

I was barely keeping it together and barely keeping things to sniffle-level sound.  I didn't recover until halfway through the third movement.  Heck, I'm crying now just thinking about it!

And the strange thing was that it came out of nowhere--smack in the face with no warning at all!  I realized right then that the only reason I was crying so hard was because I finally knew how much I have been missing "the recognizable."

I recognized the words and the music and I knew exactly what was going to come next.  I knew the Hallelujah chorus--it was familiar--and I realized how deeply I've missed feeling like I knew exactly what was happening.

I realized how much effort I've been consciously and subconsciously putting into making my being here in Germany feel like "everything I freaking ever could have dreamed of dag nabbit and I'm gol darned grateful for every last bit of it and there will never ever be any reason to be sad about anything ever hey look now I'm on a train hey look now I'm eating pastries hey look chocolate!"

And I realized that I've been trying so, so very hard to be brave and happy and cheerful and funny every single minute of every single day (because everyone is thinking "Oh, I wish we lived in Europe" so I can't ever complain)--and I never let myself acknowledge the things I really do miss, or the days that I really do just feel "blah" or even sad.

So, I guess this is my first declaration of homesickness tonight:  I miss America.  I miss my family.  I miss being well-spoken in public (or spoken at all).  I miss being able to call the bank/phone company/rental manager and do things for myself instead of needing Paul to do everything (it feels so wrong to me, deeply wrong).  I miss Ranch Dressing and canned black beans.

Okay, so, there it is, world!  I'm acknowledging my feelings!  Now, I'm going to go get ready for bed and use my good-old American toothbrush, get in my American pajamas, sleep next to my American husband, and I'll wake up tomorrow in Germany.

Sometimes that might make me feel super sad--but usually I'm going to be alright or even awesome.  Life is the same that way, no matter what continent you live on.

But, I swear, I might have a breakdown right now if any of you start commenting with lyrics from "God Bless the USA"...