Hints of Home
Bill picked the kids and I up at the San Diego airport late last night. He'd dropped us at the Las Vegas airport, from which we'd flown to Reno and then driven a rental car to Tahoe for Pact Camp. Attendance at camp is crucial for our family. Where else can we fit in with 100 other families without needing to explain anything? Tons of programming and intense conversations over 4 days with folks I've known for 8 years now refreshes my soul. One wet drive back to Reno and two short flights later, we found ourselves transported to a different world. In part this was the warm balmy air and palm trees. In part it was the ComicCon related advertising plastering every possible surface. Weird and thrilling. This morning Bill and I went for our usual early walk. Our RV park is right by the San Diego Bay, and it is so reminiscent of home. The Bay reminded me of the Puget Sound. The birds were right. The clouds and sky felt familiar. Though the dry grass and plants were all a bit foreign, I felt myself taking a slightly deeper breath. Then Bill, in giving me directions to the grocery store said, "You are pretty much just going to go up I-5 to get there." And I started crying! I-5? That's my highway. My road that I have driven almost everyday for the past 20 years - I know it intimately from Tacoma to Everett. Ah, I-5. So I cried and we laughed. Who knew a person could miss a highway? In that moment I found that little piece of me that is homesick and ready to return to the lovely, vibrant city that I chose to be my home. And more importantly, all the near and dear people who've become my home and family.