Living on campus makes it easy to forget about home. I know that makes me sound like an ungrateful son, but with all of the class projects and campus events and work hours and caf dinners and apartment routines, you shouldn’t be too surprised. The absence of a car for me to drive also keeps me on campus for most of the week. I usually let the rhythm of campus living keep me occupied, that is, until I receive a phone call from my parents asking me how I’ve been and how to login to Netflix. I haven’t gone home since I moved in back in mid-August, and with the engineering class load and Male Chorale concerts I really haven’t had time to. Last week my mom called me and surprisingly cut me off before I instinctively began guiding her through the process of fixing our home internet connection. She wanted to know if I could come home this weekend, since some family friends we knew back in Peru were visiting for the day. I could feel my typical response of “Sorry, I have a lot of homework to do this weekend” creeping into the conversation, but then I realized that I actually did have time to go home. Rarely do I have time, and this weekend actually seemed like it would work.
Like I said, I haven’t been home in a while, and the lack of longboards or my roommate’s blasting stereos reminded me how different my lifestyle is now. Not that coming back to Rancho Cucamonga really feels like home since my family only moved there last year (on the day I moved into CBU, actually), but I hoped to at least relax a bit. My dad picked me up Friday night with our little shih tzu/Pekingese dog, Sammy, relaxing in the front seat before jumping to lick my face. Dogs are great since you can be gone for months and they still treat you like you never left.
Then there’s my room, which changes every time I come home. This time around, my parents had torn out the old green carpet and painted the walls blue and gray. Again, I haven’t lived there in a while, and all of my stuff is at my apartment on campus. Just walking into that empty room, you wouldn’t be able to tell it was mine. The cleanliness of the floor is enough to let anyone who knows me realize that I don’t live there. Movies and TV shows always make fun of this, but they could easily rent out my room for some good money. Maybe that’s the plan and the reason why they decided to repaint and fix the flooring. I’ll have to stop by on a weekday to be sure.
I did in fact receive the relaxing weekend I hoped for. My mom cooked up those delicious home meals you can never taste in the caf, my dad shared with me about his recent trip to Ghana, and we all spent time enjoyed time with the family who visited. I love living on campus and doing the CBU thing, but I shouldn’t forget about the people who got me here.