I haven’t been in a hurry to get back to this place. My brain still feels like it’s coming off of a shot of novacaine.
The lights are on, but no one’s home.
Before the numbness wears off and I lose the sweetness of escape, I need to jot down a few notes about why it’s good to get away.
- There’s no point in going if I don’t like what I come home to. Escaping only makes real life more difficult to handle and harder to swallow. (You may be surprised to hear that we are happy to be home.)
- Leaving for awhile gives me the ability to see the forest instead of the trees I keep running into. The trees seem less daunting from a distance. It’s good to get away to get the big picture.
- Weirdly enough, it’s good to come home and see that things don’t change much. Why, you may be wondering, is that a good thing? When things don’t change, it proves that the change has to come from me. I have the option to change the way I view things and the way I handle things.
- Driving, site-seeing, visiting, and playing the part of tourist are all energy consuming activities. I realize I enjoy that in small doses, but we are happiest with a slower pace. That also means that our under-scheduled life – while it may not resemble the lives of other folks we know – is a good, rich life for us.
- I have reached the age where I’m not comfortable sleeping on the floor, on an old mattress, or on the front seat of a Chevy Impala. It’s nice to be at an age where I have no problem admitting that I have earned the right to a good night’s sleep.
- A body can only handle so much road food before it’s time to get home and start eating healthy again.
- Teaching Will and Jen the pleasures of a good roadie at a young age will make for lots of fun trips together before they reach the age where they don’t want to be seen in the same car with me.
- Seeing what goes on in the rest of the world makes me realize that I don’t have it so bad. It makes it damn hard to get all worked into a tizz about anything Mark wants to send our way. (That being said, I reserve the right to blow a grommet the next time Mark mistreats one of my kids, especially since he managed to do that before our butts even pulled into the driveway.)
- There are a lot of amazingly beautiful places to see in our country, and they are best viewed from behind a steering wheel with a cup of coffee and a bag of Fritos.
This morning I was feeling a little panicky, anxious and harried while brushing my teeth. I realized I was still suffering from a little road lag – that’s jet lag’s sweeter, prettier step-sister. As I was brushing, I was running through a mental list about what we’d need for the next leg of our trip – a habit formed in those three weeks away from home.
- Do the kids have their toothbrushes packed?
- Is Jen’s blanky in the bag?
- Did Will grab his book?
- Is the tank half full or closer to E?
- Did I pack enough snacks?
- Can I grab another cup of coffee or will I have to stop to pee?
- Do we have enough clean underwear?
And then I remembered I’m home. I can slow down. I can take a breath.
I can make it through today.
I can take it one day at a time.
Welcome home.
Pat,
miss you