Two weeks, two cities, two hotels, 16 hours of driving, 100 students, and more restaurants than I care to remember later, I am finally back home. Data collecting in Bristol and Wise went smoother than expected, and since I was hanging with my bestie and her other friend the entire time, southwest VA wasn’t half bad. (Although I do not ever need to return.)
Coming home last night was a welcome relief, and my mom barreled into the room kissing and squealing, I’m pretty sure more excited to see me than when I came home after five months abroad. Even my puppy looked in better spirits. And there’s nothing like resting your head on your own pillows at the end of the night.
What is that saying, “You can’t go home again”? I, like, sooo don’t agree. I know the actual underlying message doesn’t mean the same thing, but people who take it at face value haven’t come home to my mom’s loving arms and spaghetti sauce. No matter where I go, or how long I’m gone, home always feels the same – quiet, soft, easy, comfortable.
A “Home” playlist sounds just right for this rainy Friday morning —