Homesick

When I was a child, my homesickness was a small stamp, linking Mum at the other end and me this.

When I've grown up, I remained homesick, but it became a ticket by which I sailed to and from my bride at the other end.

Then homesickness took the shape of a grave, Mum inside of it and me outside.

Now I’m still homesick, but it is a narrow strait, separating me on this side and the mainland on the other.