I spend loads of time writing about the places I visit. But there's nothing quite like coming home, after a long trip in a foreign land, greeted at the airport by your Dad and your dog.
Back when I was in college, I dreamt about tasting that first warm mouthful of a roast beef dinner my Mom made when we came home for Christmas. I'd eat too quickly - the dining hall food was horrible, and I guess my stomach had shrunk, 'cause I wouldn't be able to finish. Later Mom would break out the homemade cookies as we watched Larry King. Then came the narcoleptic bliss from a full stomach - ahh.
But nothing seemed as lovely as coming home this time to Maryland. I had been gone a year - it was like the whole state rolled out its autumnal finest - the leafy trees lining Patrick Street in Frederick were positively golden. While I waited for a homemade mint chocolate iced latte at Cafe Nola, a couple remarked how cute the little dog in the silver car was.
He waits for me when I'm gone.
Goodbye tropical sun, goodbye lizards (sorry George), buh bye sandy beaches and long, lonesome nights. I was going home. To my own old bed and my Mom - she cried when she saw us. How I missed spending time together doing the little things that make life meaningful, like shopping at Target.
Or walking around Fells Point
Or eating cheesecake at Vaccaros.
Man it feels great to be home.