And then, suddenly, I was flooded with the most overwhelming waves of homesickness I had ever known. Not homesickness for the destroyed town, or our lost, white-pillared house, or my small mahogany spool bed that was no more; but waves of homesickness for a coquina and cypress house set far back on the dunes, for a bare room furnished in unpainted pine, for Ilsa’s authoritative voice, and Dr. Brandes’ quiet one, and Ira’s cross one. I wanted to weep with an agony of longing for a place and for people I had never seen or known a few short days ago.
This just hit me like a ton of bricks. I know how this feels. Sobbing. What potent, emotional writing.
