Wondering what I miss the most

“Aren’t you homesick?”

“What do you miss most?”

“Don’t you miss your friends and family?”

Questions, questions. I wish I had some kind of good answer to these questions…but I don’t. Homesick – no, not really. What do I miss most? Not sure. Don’t I miss my friends and family? Of course. It was that second question that really made me think and, until last Saturday morning, I had no idea.

My friend, Malin came and slept over with a promise from me that I would make American pancakes in the morning since she had never tried them before. Swedish pancakes are considerably thinner, lighter and eaten with jelly. I can’t decide which pancakes are my favorite. So, Saturday morning, when I woke up I got going on the pancakes, hoping that they will turn out as fluffy and perfect as I am used to. The recipe we have is a Swedish one with the title “American blueberry pancakes,” and I recall the last time we used this recipe; the pancakes were flat and the completely wrong color. I realized I was going to have to use my (relatively non- existent) talents as a chef and try to get them the thickness they should be. Ha ha. Hahahahahaha. I try my hardest and get them at least double the thickness they were last time and the right color. Could I be improving as a chef? I’m still not completely satisfied.

That’s when I came up with an answer to the question “What do you miss most?” As I stood at the stove, about to flip the third pancake, hoping to see a light brown side turn up at me, I thought of my best friend. I’ve slept over her house so much, and I’m there so often that I don’t knock anymore. I always feel like a part of her family, and she feels like a part of mine. So why do pancakes remind me of her?

Many times when I slept over we would wake up first and start to make pancakes before her sisters woke up. I would always set the table and do the dishes because of my reputation when it comes to making anything edible, and I was happy to just do that. Her younger sister usually came down first and would, since she was so good at flipping the pancakes, help out. The middle sister would come down and, depending on her mood, help out with the pancakes as well, and I was always happy when she did because she, like me, likes the pancakes only half cooked so that the batter is still batter in the middle.

The other two would be so disgusted when we licked the batter out of the bowl – and I loved that. I guess I loved those mornings more than I thought, even when my mom called to say she would be there in half an hour to go grocery shopping with my grandmother and we were still sitting and eating with our pajamas on. I miss those mornings when I had to be the first in their shower and the tub was so cold I considered wearing slippers as I showered; the time we broke a window playing a game; watcing scary movies and not even daring to go upstairs and sleep I was so scared.

I miss their dad trying to scare me with stories of previous owners of the house. Then at my house, when she came over, she always played with my little brother and never refused. I miss how she never said no to stir-fry and was so happy when my mom made it; how my dad picked on her and she still returned (just kidding, Daddy). So, no I’m not homesick, not at all.

I mean that because I am having the time of my life here and would not just come home whenever. I miss my friends and the things we do together. I’m so lucky that two of them actually got enough money together and are coming. I’ll see them on Friday the 13th, and I could not be more excited.

So now I finally have an answer to the “What do I miss the most” question, and I think it’s a good one.

Want to say hello?

Email: [email protected]

Address: Angelika Guy, Huginvägen 12, SE- 715 31 Odensbacken, Sweden, airmail

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