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What I look forward to #2

I look forward to the feeling of home that is hard to put into words, but that embraces me when I step through the door of my parents’ house.
Familiar smells meet cat hair on the couch and an everlasting feeling of welcome expecting me. No matter where I am or what happened, I know this door is always open.

I look very forward to my mum standing inside the door waving at me. Usually my dad is only one step behind  or sitting outside on their bench smoking and reading the paper.

I love listening to my parents bicker about something or other – they never cease to find ways to tease each other – and how my mum rolls her eyes at my dad when she thinks he is not looking. (I am sure he catches it despite her best efforts) Of course, one must be careful as quickly their bickering might turn to teasing oneself.

I enjoy how life is just simple there: good food, having a chat, watching some tv or reading a book and observing the cats and maybe, when my sister is around, discussing politics or animal rights. Sometimes I used to sit and just listen to them, three hotheads and me. It makes me smile. My dad usually makes his point by slapping his hand on the table, whereas my sister uses gestures. My mum tends to listen and after some silence mostly offers some sarcastic comment or other. I tend to share my opinion when I am done listening  or interrupt the others when I can’t stand listening to nonsense anymore. Family dynamic is unique and I look very forward to playing my part again soon (which is, as was once established, the bringer of change and openmindedness).

My parents have many flaws, and so do I, yet they never seem to matter in the long run. Nobody knows you as well as family, and can drive me as mad as they do often – nobody pushes my buttons more precisely. Yet nobody takes me as easily as a whole either or makes me feel more loved than my parents, and my sister.

I know that my parents do not always get me (I find I often hardly get myself when I am in a mood). I know that, as I do not always manage to get them and more often find myself frustrated with them – set in their ways, not open to new ideas unless they are theirs, so satisfied with what they have and their routine.. when I at home, however, I find this peaceful, though, and it relaxes me, following their pattern and the slow pace of their everyday life. “Schö langsam”, is what my dad tells me in our beloved Franconian dialect often.

Sure, I am sometimes impatient, explosive, and stubborn, and every once in a while honest words are hurled around the dining room table – however, none of us can really hold a grudge for long and soon we are back to loving bickering or comfortable silence. I love that I do not have to hold back and be my more moderate version at home. No moderation. No filters. Just me.

Hell, I miss being home with my parents and my sister. ♡ I look forward to stepping through that door and hugging them soon.

Author: carasmelody

daydreamer, hopelessly hopeful, I love the power of words, I love poems, words are soulfood

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