Home, and then Home, Again.

            On the road, our Verizon Aircards allow us Internet addiction even at 70 mph on the freeway. It is an incredible way to feel connected to all that which you care to be connected. I check Facebook nine times a day, and the New York Times at least 12 times. Without the mobile Internet, I fear I would have gone crazy two months ago.

 

            While home for the past few days, I have been away from the Internet more then in the last three months. I did not think this would be a problem, until after 36 hours sans-Internet, I began to get a bit shaky. I didn't know why. I assumed, in terms of the trip, that I had become so addicted to the Internet because it allowed me to stay connected with Tucson, and all the people there that I hold so dear. What I found during my homecoming was a bit more interesting than that,

 

            In Tucson, I: Had a wonderful Beyond Bread experience with Bridget Radcliff, my English advisor, and Charlie Bertsch, my favorite English professor ever. Watched 21 kids get arrested at the hands of the Tucson Police Department, just so they could see us perform 30 minutes before the aforementioned cops showed up. I saw every one of my beautiful friends, too many to name, and it was glorious. I ate La Parilla Suiza with my grandparents, mother, and brother. Essentially, it was the perfect trip home.

 

            Yet why was I 'fiending' for the Internet, so? Seemingly awash with everything and everyone for whom/which I truly care, I figured the Internet would be as useless as (some metaphor of uselessness, ice to an Eskimo perhaps). But it was not so, and I realize now the answer is simple, and rather profound.

 

            I have found a home in Marcus Garvey, our dutiful RV. I have found familial and friendly companionship with my traveling mates. I wanted so badly to get on the Internet and see what they were doing, in Nashville, while Jay and I hung in Tucson. I was so excited to come home, I skipped the prospect that perhaps I would miss this crazy life of ours, and I did. I missed Brett suggesting I do work, fulfilling all of his fatherly duties. I missed the Puppy and his youthful exuberance. I missed sleeping through states, and waking up in new ones. I missed my life, a thing which is easily taken for granted.

 

            Home was beautiful, as it is and always has been. Yet when the RV picked us up at the St. Louis airport, I felt like I was home, again, a complement to the character and necessity of the people and things awaiting any homecoming.

 

xoxo