Missing York
I knew when I lived there that I would miss York, England immensely. I knew I'd daydream about the twisting snickleways, the gorgeous York Minster, the York Explore Library, the Museum Gardens, the River Ouse, my neighborhood of Micklegate, and so much more. I knew I would miss my friends there, and the friends who became like my family-away-from-family.
But it was also hard to love it sometimes, because York lacked some of the things I need most: my family, my friends and my (now) fiance. For those reasons, I am utterly grateful to be back and I cannot imagine leaving them soon. I feel more intensely like a homebody than ever before - I just want to soak up time with those I love more than ever (kind of hard as I'm so busy, but at least I'm on the same continent!).
But yes, I do miss York, in that same intense bittersweet nostalgic way I thought I would. I miss it more than I thought I would, somehow. For the first few weeks of being home, I'd wake up and have what I can only call flashbacks. My memories of York would start and take me to a place or experience I had there - friends visiting, dinner at Derek and Isobel's, a walk with my roommate along the River Foss, or even a trip to London or Sheffield or Scotland.
My old self did not like this feeling of sadness. But I have changed a lot. Now, whenever the missing starts to take hold, I give into it. Instead of pushing away the feelings of nostalgia, I sink into the memories. I walk in my mind along the streets, explore my favorite York Minster, imagine the various seasons I experienced, visit museums and parks and bookstores and the library. I think giving into my sadness has helped me heal from it more quickly than if I had shoved away these feelings. It also makes me feel more grateful for the whole experience.
It's funny - I was not even supposed to end up in York. I was supposed to go to Nicaragua for two years. Some patient, humorous God laughed at me and redirected my path so that it would cross with Rachel, Emily, Molly, Grace, my YAGM cohort, other Time for God volunteers, Derek, Isobel, Jack, Jacky, Ian, Angela, Uschi, Matt, Sarah, Fiona-Jane, and so many others - so that it would cross with the beautiful city of York.
I almost did not end up there, and now it is a piece of my heart, a little patch that I will carry inside me forever. How lucky I am. It isn't a hardship to spend a little time with my heart aching for this beautiful city, not at all. Missing York, as with so many of the hardest, sweetest things in life, is a blessing.
But it was also hard to love it sometimes, because York lacked some of the things I need most: my family, my friends and my (now) fiance. For those reasons, I am utterly grateful to be back and I cannot imagine leaving them soon. I feel more intensely like a homebody than ever before - I just want to soak up time with those I love more than ever (kind of hard as I'm so busy, but at least I'm on the same continent!).
But yes, I do miss York, in that same intense bittersweet nostalgic way I thought I would. I miss it more than I thought I would, somehow. For the first few weeks of being home, I'd wake up and have what I can only call flashbacks. My memories of York would start and take me to a place or experience I had there - friends visiting, dinner at Derek and Isobel's, a walk with my roommate along the River Foss, or even a trip to London or Sheffield or Scotland.
My old self did not like this feeling of sadness. But I have changed a lot. Now, whenever the missing starts to take hold, I give into it. Instead of pushing away the feelings of nostalgia, I sink into the memories. I walk in my mind along the streets, explore my favorite York Minster, imagine the various seasons I experienced, visit museums and parks and bookstores and the library. I think giving into my sadness has helped me heal from it more quickly than if I had shoved away these feelings. It also makes me feel more grateful for the whole experience.
It's funny - I was not even supposed to end up in York. I was supposed to go to Nicaragua for two years. Some patient, humorous God laughed at me and redirected my path so that it would cross with Rachel, Emily, Molly, Grace, my YAGM cohort, other Time for God volunteers, Derek, Isobel, Jack, Jacky, Ian, Angela, Uschi, Matt, Sarah, Fiona-Jane, and so many others - so that it would cross with the beautiful city of York.
I almost did not end up there, and now it is a piece of my heart, a little patch that I will carry inside me forever. How lucky I am. It isn't a hardship to spend a little time with my heart aching for this beautiful city, not at all. Missing York, as with so many of the hardest, sweetest things in life, is a blessing.
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