Anyone remember a time you were homesick?

This is a purely social question for once.

Its been many years—

I never ventured far from home before I was about 30. I went to college in my hometown. I lived in my great-aunt’s house when she was in a nursing home until a few years after she died. I was in seminary then—but again, still in my hometown.

When I got my first church as a pastor, my parents were still pretty young (early 50s)—and helped me move to a small town about 2–½ hours away—still not that far. For a couple of weeks, my parents helped me move and get situated in the church parsonage, which needed work. We’d go early some mornings and work on the house—I’d load my car and they’d load theirs with stuff I’d want to take with me. And just after sunset (when the sun was out of our eyes) we’d head back home.

But the day arrived when I did not go back home with them.

I remember sitting in the living room of the parsonage at the end of the day, past sunset and twilight—there was no more work to do. This was my new home. It was oddly sad and melancholy. I didn’t really know a soul in town yet, and missed my friends and old job in my hometown. Nights were extremely quiet and very dark. Most of my neighbors were much older than me, and even older than my folks.

Leaving that “new” town was just as painful a couple of years later. I missed the sounds of the night especially.

Anyone remember your first real move away from home, or some other time you were homesick?