Where Can I Find a Fairy Godmother?

Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz fame captured a common feeling when she clicked her sparkly, red heels together and said, "There's no place like home." She had a strong lust for home which was simply a case of old-fashioned homesickness. I can identify with Dorothy even though I am missing the fairy godmother. (hmm -- where can you get one of those?)

I discovered several years ago that while I've been working towards metamorphosing into a mature woman, apparently one of my remaining characteristics in my repertoire of behaviors is that of pure babyishness. This is caused by the same strong lust for home...just like Dorothy.

This became all too clear to me when I went to Atlanta on a business trip for a week. (a whole week!) I reverted back to the most infantile of behaviors, acting like a homesick kid at camp away from the comfort of home. A fairy godmother would have come in mighty handy at that point. (I repeat -- where can I get one of those?)

The actual moment my lust for home began was following a phone call from my son the first night I was away. He called to tell me the great news that he had been accepted into the college of his choice. I couldn't believe I was so far away and unable to celebrate this once-in-a-lifetime event with him. (Did I mention I was to be there for a whole week?)

I have a good friend, Donna, who happened to be in Atlanta at the same time and she had knowledge of my suffering. She made a point to stop by to see her pathetic friend. I clung to her and her business associate whom I had never met. (All I knew was he lived in NC and that's all I needed to know to warrant hugging the living daylights out of him. Pitiful, huh?)

I spoke to my mother on the phone during this period of longing in hopes of gathering necessary relief. I could tell she was searching for just the right words to comfort her all grown up baby daughter. Disappointingly, she did not say, "Don't worry, honey. You'll be home soon." No...instead she emphatically said, "Buck up!" My defensive retort was, "But it only means that I really like my life and that's a good thing!"

In actuality, her words were quite appropriate ones. I allowed them to continually resonate through my mind. It helped me endure the final days of my trip with a little more strength. Aren't moms the best? (I'd still like a fairy godmother, too!)

If the truth be known, my mother actually has her own emotional story of "homesickness." I will gladly tattle on her concerning her similar weakness and plight. It was a period of time when she was pining for my father before their marriage. She was working in Raleigh as a teacher while my father finished his last year of medical school in Chapel Hill. He had limited time and even less money. He didn't have a car, so he took the bus to Raleigh every weekend to be with her. They were each other's "homes." Hence severe cases of homesickness ensued following his departures on Sunday evenings. They corresponded with letters during the week frequently making reference to how difficult Mondays were after those much anticipated weekends. When they married, they appropriately had inscribed in their wedding bands, "Remember Mondays" signifying how important sharing each other's company was to them. I can only assume that homesickness must be hereditary. I guess they had to learn the fine art of "Bucking Up" on Mondays.

Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.
Home, home, sweet, sweet home!
----John Howard Payne.