Home Sweet Home

Coming home is an indisputable joy. The process may be tiresome, but the destination is worth it. I guess one of the reasons that transitions are harder than they used to be is that home is more precious than it used to be. Our trip home went about as smoothly as it could, given the realities of air travel these days. We cashed in enough frequent (well, not all that frequent) flyer miles for business class seats, and that choice included the privileges of a fast track security line and American Airlines’ Ambassador Lounges in London and Chicago, amenities that eased the inevitable discomfort of modern airports. We took off from Heathrow at 10:15 a.m. and arrived in Seattle a bit early fifteen and a half hours later at 5:45 p.m. We were - are - jetlagged and tired, but it is good to be home. Very good.

I know there are promised pictures that have not yet been shared. Trust me; they will be, but not today. Today is a day for savoring home, reengaging with the responsibilities that were temporarily set aside, and reflecting on the joy of the journey. I am reminded of my brother’s comment in Ireland:
You can’t unsee something. We have seen much, and the images remain, and we will not unsee what we have seen.

I think of the original primary purpose of our trip to leave Mom’s ashes on a peaceful, grassy hillside in Scotland, and I realize that she - and Joan, Matt, and too many others - have experienced in an ultimate sense the truth that coming home is an indisputable joy. Seattle may not be heaven, but the destination is worth it.
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