After an almost 24 hour-long journey, I am indeed back home again Indiana. Plane rides are never my favorite, but this one was pretty par for the course, and there were no delays. I arrived at Indianapolis International yesterday around 5 PM, my stuffed to the brim backpack on my shoulders, and ran straight into the arms of my awaiting family.
Being home after an absence is both strange and good. Strange because things seem similar, but oh so slightly different, like someone rearranged your room while you were away at work, but instead of rearranging the whole room, they move the dresser an inch to the left, leaving you scratching your head, trying to figure out what, exactly, has changed.
The answer to that question – what’s changed – is complicated. My family has changed – my brother’s moving away and starting a new job. My home has changed – my lifelong neighbors have moved away. I’ve changed – a year away in Spain has left me a different person, in both good and bad ways. In short, everything has, but only slightly. It’s (slightly) disconcerting, but I can deal.
I also went to London on my “way” home, but I’ll write more about that later. As for now, I’m enjoying all the wonderful parts of being at home: family, friends, my dog, my car, the green grass outside my door, free refills, friendly waiters, and just not being foreign. It’s a breath of fresh air.