Home Again
We stayed up half the night Saturday, celebrating my sister's birthday with kareoke at an Irish bar. We slept about 6 hours, just enough to feel human, and then went out to breakfast.I cried over my French toast when I tried to share my wishes for our eventual family's holiday rituals. I love the holidays, but I'm not much of a traditionalist. Pretty sure having children will shift that for me, but that's not in the cards for this season.After a full day of errands, cleaning, packing and relaxing we headed to the airport. Our 11pm flight was delayed over an hour. I was so uncomfortable in the middle seat, I cried again. We spent our layover in Texas, paying $5 to split a 30min massage chair session. Worth every penny.The second flight was roomier, but the turbulence kept me from sleeping at all. H thought it all went super well, but I felt raw from HSP overload - too many vibes, too much noise, not enough sleep. I wore my sunglasses during the flights just to block some of the light from all the screens. People probably thought I was some LA snob, but I was pretty proud of myself. Anything to smooth the chaos.I am writing this from the pristine quiet of my inlaws' house. It's decorated for Christmas in a way I can only dream of for our little apartment. We didn't decorate this year - I just didn't have it in me - so I'm so glad to be surrounded by greens and reds and warmth.We hit WaWa after the airport. After you've been away from home, the simplest things are pure pleasure - even a hoagie from a gas station. It seems fitting our trip coincides with the solstice - the longest day of darkness. That we stumble into bed for a nap in a home we haven't visited in 2 years. That we are hugged by our families so soon after our loss. Lindsey writes so eloquently about the passage of time and her words in a poem she shared add to the weight of the day. I am trying to hold in one steady glance all the parts of my life. Yes - this. Always, but even more so now. Home after so long, a vacation we need, the light of family around us. 2015 left debris and pain in its wake. I am not sure I can even see all the parts, let alone hold steady to anything, but on this longest night of the year, I will try.