The closer I got to home, the longer it seemed to take. The nine-hour trans-Atlantic flight only took two w/ the time difference. I had to keep reminding my body of this. The transfer in Chicago went smoothly. I wish Ron didn't have to deal w/ the pain of Fibromyalgia, and I wish he didn't have to have a wheelchair and trolleys to transport him through airports, but it certainly allows us to bypass all the lines, queues as the Brits call them, and waiting. I have, however, throughout this trip felt twinges of guilt when we simply walk past all the people waiting in those long lines and move right to the front. I usually look away from them b/c I can't bear to meet their judgmental gaze.
Once Phil picked us up in Cedar Rapids, the speed of travel seemed to come to a grinding halt. I still had two more stops and 200 miles to travel to see my husband and children. I spent a couple of hours at Dad's to talk about our trip, share some of the videos I'd taken, balance his checkbook, write out some check, and pull some weeds. I know he missed us a lot as tears came to his eyes when he saw us in the flesh. I think in a way he felt he'd never see us again. It was nice to hear him say that he was glad we were back. He didn't say things like that as much when Mom was alive.
On my way out of town, I had one last stop to make. I had to tell Mom I made it back. She was always interested in my travels for vacations and conferences. She loved traveling and would've liked to do more so my adventures were ways for her to travel vicariously. For two weeks I've had what seemed like fleeting thoughts of Mom, but today, upon returning, I desperately missed telling her about my adventures. Unfortunately there's some truth to the saying, "Our of sight, out of mind." I think my rush of tears came from guilt in not thinking about Mom as much; from fatigue of travel; and from delight in being amongst familiar surroundings. As I cleared away some overgrowth at the base of the stone and swept away all the dead grass, I felt her say, "Stop all the fuss and be on your way."
On the plane from London earlier today thinking about the time in my journey when I would be driving my car, I had difficulty remembering which side of the car the steering wheel is on. Finally, now behind the wheel on the last stage of my journey home, it came back to me. During the last two weeks, I've missed the joy of the open road. I'm tired of crowds and significantly less personal space. I realized that this was the first time in two weeks that I've been by myself for any significant amount of time. I loved every minute of my European vacation, and I am forever grateful to Ron for giving me this gift of travel.
Opening my front door, I saw my family gathered together under a "Welcome Home" sign. I thought for sure I'd cry at this reunion, but I think I spent all those at Mom's grave. After hugs and kisses came all the items that I'd bought for them, and I knew the $50 I had to pay for an additional suitcase was well worth it. I knew the excitement of getting home would help keep me awake, but I've been up for over 24 hours w/ only a 30-minute nap on the trans-Atlantic flight. Once again, I'm exhausted but am delighted to crash in my own bed.
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