Going Home

We were making our final approach into the vast (ha!) Wichita Mid-Continent Airport, Liam next to me having a whiny conversation with his blankie and kicking the seat of the poor man in front of him, when the outlying suburbs, downtown skyline and finally the familiar streets of my old "hood came into view. My eyes immediately welled with tears. Home.

I moved away from my hometown 11 years ago and my reaction upon returning is always the same: relief. Sweet, happy relief. The nature of that relief has evolved over the years. When I first moved away to start my adult life so far from family and friends, coming home meant reconnecting with the people who knew and loved me best, visiting old haunts and laughing over stories from the past. As a newlywed, it pretty much meant the same thing, only bringing my husband along so he could begin to know and love the same people and places that I did. And now as a mother, it means coming back to a place where I am, and always will be, someone's child. Where there are people to care for me while I care for my own little people. And after this particular journey (more on that later), I could feel my whole body relax at the sight of the runway rushing up to greet us. Sweet relief.

Being home brings with it the wonderful comfort of familiarity. The city has grown like mad since I moved away, there are places I don't recognize and I have accidentally driven past my parent's house more times than I care to admit. But the sense of it is still the same. The air is familiar, the people familiar, the smell of my parents house familiar. All giving me the sense that even though the kid's schedules are out of whack, the time change is messing with them, they aren't sleeping like they usually do, even though, in a sense, life is a little bit harder right now, everything will be just fine because there are a hundred hands to help along the way. It's always a happy surprise when I am doing what I usually do with the kids, feeding, reading, bathing, playing, schlepping, and my mom or dad speaks up and says "here, let me". It's like having your alarm go off at the crack of dawn, struggling awake, then realizing "hey, I don't have to go to work today", rolling over and going back to sleep all cozied up under the covers. The relaxed and peaceful sleep of knowing you don't have to do it all today.

Welcome home.