I only ever really feel homesick at the change of each season. And now that summer is very much upon us, especially in Madrid where it has been consistently over 90F (32C) for the second straight week, I very much miss home. I miss my brother’s rooftop in Brooklyn (though I have only been up there twice). I miss the drive from Washington to the Bronx through New Jersey. I miss the C&O Canal. I miss Georgetown. I miss the Washington humidity. I miss cooking out. I miss my mother’s garden. I miss the Bay Bridge. I miss the fruits and vegetables on the way to the Eastern Shore. I miss opening the window and being on the beach in Bethany. And I miss my family.
I suppose I am lucky living in Europe. I am in wonderful Madrid and spend at least a little time each month in Paris, probably the most beautiful city in the world. Nevertheless, whenever the seasons change — from hot to cold, cold to hot or in between — I always miss home.