Also, I'm crying a little bit.
I knew it would be such a happy time to see the folks that I love so much and miss so dearly. I failed to consider how difficult it would be to say goodbye to all of them all over again. It's less traumatic than when we moved, but still hardly easy. It still smarts. I've decided that this experience of going "home" to visit, then returning to where we live now is pretty similar to a bikini wax. It hurts, significantly. I'm assuming that as I continue to visit here and back in the future, it will hurt less with each subsequent visit. Last time I could have used something to bite down on, it hurt so bad. This time it hurts so much I'd like to scream, but since that kind of behavior is frowned upon when travelling commercially I'm writing about it instead of verbalizing my feelings.
As the sun is setting, we rise above the Windy City. The Chicago skyline that has always captivated my spirit brings a tear to my eye. The trip was great; the farewell makes me ache inside. I wonder if anyone else on this flight feels the same way.
Somewhere in the middle of this trip, Moose said he wanted to go home. And then it struck me. As strongly attached as my heart is to this city as home, it's not our home. Home is where my husband, dogs, and all my stuff is.
As thrilled as I was to go "home", I'm also very pleased to be going home.