Our trip was a sort of best of times and worst of times thing. And although I don't recall being hit by a train, I rather feel like I was. I look like I was, too.
All those airports and bleary-eyed morning flights.... all those eternal hours of driving in sometimes-crazy traffic... all the jet lag and the snack food and the emotions pegged all across the board... and seeing my mom standing alone for pretty much the first time ever. And the annoying cold I had all week. Well, all of it, everything, caught-up to me last night in the motel room (after passing a man who resembled my dad) and I found myself in the shower bawling silent sobs.
And yet the good times were many. The visiting with relatives and old friends not seen for twenty years. The laughter while sitting in circles in my parents' living room while story after story was shared by my two uncles and an older friend of my parents. My favorite story came from the meek, older friend who described taking a special eye test at the DMV and was nagged over and over by the woman behind the desk to stop using his left eye to read the plate. He kept telling her he wasn't using it, couldn't use it, because it's a plastic eye. But she kept getting after him, so he pulled the eye out and said, "See?". heh. (Turns out there was a mix-up with the eye chart plates in the viewer.) We all wiped away tears of laughter.
Well, anyway.... I only have a moment now and I just wanted you to know I'm home. I'll be sharing more about our trip and my dad's memorial service over the next two days.
Thanks so very much for your prayers.... We could feel them and we needed them so much.