My heart is full. I suppose that means it’s time to leave again. After our five years of being overseas I am beginning to recognize this pattern. Every time we start to get to our breaking point-irritated with all that we usually find charming about living overseas-thankfully, it is time to go home.
For the most part we manage to make it through ten months at a time with only a few breakdowns along the way. Most of those breakdowns may or may not come from me. There have been times that I have dreamed of a trip to Target. Actually DREAMED about the big red dots from half way across the world. Generally, though, we manage to make it through-distracting ourselves with Western comforts and indulging in the things that are cheaper to come by in our Indian neck of the woods. Then, when we feel like we can’t make it another day, we can head back to the States. That day is so glorious that even over 24 hours of travel with three kids can feel joyous.
This year I traveled back with the kids solo, Paul staying behind for a Masters class. The kids were great. Of course, Emirates’ continuous offering of a ridiculous amount of Disney movies didn’t hurt either, but the kids were troopers. Until we reached Seattle. When we finally managed to get our luggage, taxi to get the rental car, and drive to the ferry for the very last leg of the trip-a 35 minute ferry ride to Bainbridge Island-the kids lost it. All of them. At the same time. We didn’t make the first ferry and waiting for the next one, less than an hour later, was painful. The kids wanted to be home at that very. single. moment. and there was no reasoning with them. We finally made it to our sweet little home, a gazillion hours after our journey began, and we all breathed a collective sigh of relief. And my mom and I poured a glass of wine.
The past six weeks have flown by. Our days have been a collage of parks, trips to the farmers’ market, dining at Doc’s, and walks downtown. Throw in a visit to Virginia, extended days with family, catching up with friends we haven’t seen in years, and a short visit to Cleveland for Stella and Paul and it’s all a giant blur. A wonderful, happy, speedy blur. And my heart feels it. It feels full, ready to return to our life in Mumbai. I long for these warm summer days to go on forever, but I can feel it now. It’s time to go home.