coming home

we just got home from being away for a week-long family vacation.  the vacation was wonderful, almost "blissful" as lauren said one afternoon laying under a canopy by the beach.  it was seven full days of relaxation, play, food, sleep, adventure, laughter, and maybe, (dare i say?) best thing of all, reading a fantastic book.  i hardly lifted a finger the entire time, and loved every minute of my time off, savoring the days.

but then, in the car on the way home, it started.  like an itch,  it started in one small spot in my mind and quickly began to spread across the body of my entire psyche. as we drove familiar streets, saw familiar stores and neighborhoods, i felt like dorothy with eyes closed tight, toto clutched tightly at her side, clicking together the heels of her ruby red slippers saying, "there's no place like home."

okay, i have to confess one of my little neurotic compulsions.  when i'm getting ready to be gone for awhile, i care very much how i leave the house. (is there any trash in the trashcans? are there dishes in the sink? is anything laying around terribly out of place? are all the loose papers at least gathered into nice little piles? those kinds of things.) even though we usually leave the house in a flurry, i try to leave it as neat as possible, (and i really don't strive for absolute perfection, honest i don't-- i gave up on that a long time ago.)  and why do i want to leave it neat?  it's not so it will be neat while we're gone.  it's so it will be neat when we come home.  so it doesn't feel like i have work to do the minute i walk through the door, so all the unwinding i did all week on vacation doesn't get all wound back up again in an instant. 

but, here's the strange thing.  do you know what it was i couldn't wait to do when i got home?

cook.  i couldn't wait to cook.

i couldn't wait to go to the grocery store, leisurely walk the aisles, then bring home the bounty and restock my fridge.  i wanted to settle back in, to my life, my roles, my responsibilities.  i think i was beginning to feel a little bit lost without the edges that define my life.  one can only stand so much leisure without feeling all mushy inside, after all.

walking in the door today, i smiled.  maybe bigger than for any other homecoming.

i loved the being gone, every moment, every day.  but, surprisingly, just as sweet, the coming home.