homesick

Home is where the heart is. Thats what they say.

If this is true, my heart must be torn into pieces. I feel like I've left a little peice of myself in every country I've lived in. People say that now that I'm married, my home should be where my husband and I live. And I do feel like Provo is more of a home now that I live with a husband instead of roommates. But even so, I will never get back those pieces of my heart that I've left all over South America and the Caribbean.

This past weekend I've been thinking a lot about Chile. Although I experienced many small earthquakes while living there, it was almost impossible to believe that an 8.8 earthquake hit my home. MY home. My mind was in denial as I saw pictures of collapsed bridges and damaged streets and buildings--places I've been many many times! How could something so terrible happen to a place I love so much?

Rather than feeling relieved that I wasn't there when it happened, this whole event has made me wish more than ever that I was there right now. I want to making sure everyone I know is okay. I want to help clean up the areas that were hit the hardest. But most of all, I just want to be there. Back home where I belong.