My Little Glass Dome

Sometimes only when you step outside far enough, so that what you were apart of fits into a snow globe, can you see it for what it is. I have stepped back from my family and become an observer just outside the glass dome. What I see is so beautiful that it baffles me as to why this could not penetrate me when I stood right in the middle. It is not as if all of a sudden I was hit by a love for my family: I have always loved them. Now I just see some things in each of them; things that I could not before causing me to love deeper. I have a family worth missing and that in itself speaks volumes of them. They have made my home such a big part of me that no where else can compare. Ghana is a big part of me right now, but is not my home. At the end of the day I look forward to when I leave not because I am leaving something behind, but because I am returning to something so special. Wanting to go home does not mean I fail in this experience: it is apart of my experience. I do not want to go home any faster and not in desperation. I am patient for the day that I can see coming. I am not leaving in loss or sadness as no part of me is has been taken; I am actually buying another bag to hold the new pieces.