I'm back in Delaware, home to the world's best airport greeting ever. I don't know what Matt promised her, but Alyce made my year with the hugs and big smile and shouting "Mama, you're home!" It helped make the blow of stopping over in Detroit a little softer.* I wish I could bottle up that feeling and carry it with me through the day. I would keep in tucked in my pocket and enjoy my secret stash.
Canada. I had six days with my family while the rest of reality took place far off in the distance (I heard something about an election. Anyone?). As usual, I was sustained by my mum's delicious food (this trip's highlights were lasagna and birthday carrot cake). I consider it a successful week in eating because I gained back the five pounds I had lost in the weeks prior to my trip. I don't hold a grudge against those five pounds. They were worth it.
I was also sustained by good family. Of course I spent the most time with mum, as I always seem to do, because I just enjoy her company so much. I didn't see enough of my grandmother, and hunting season made it impossible to see my grandfather. And the reason for this visit was to spend some time with my other grandpa and father, who traveled from Spain and Vancouver, respectively. It had been two years since seeing my grandpa and one since seeing my dad, so this was a long overdue visit. There was a lovely mood about this weekend and I haven't laughed so hard in a long time.
Did I mention Noah, my just-turned-seven-on-Halloween-year-old brother? (Yes, I know. There is quite an age difference between us. It just gives me even more years of experience from which draw my sage advice, from how to get permission to go to concerts before you're really old enough to surviving grades seven, eight, and second-year at college). This weekend I just sat back and watched him be a grown-up kid. As is our tradition, we enjoyed a birthday movie out on the town:
But now I am home, and reality has returned. I feel a bit disoriented, between the flu and the travel. I have struggled all day to remember if it is Monday or Wednesday (turns out it is Tuesday). Of course this is normal after such a week, but I think my confusion is in part a result of feeling such a wash of relief/freedom/grief/elation after telling my parents and family about leaving my PhD. I'll post more this week about the details, but let me tell you this: they didn't care. Well, they cared in the sense that they love me and want me to be happy and healthy, but none of them seemed at all interested in telling me that I was making the wrong choice. While there is tiny part of me still waiting for them to really tell me how they feel, I think I can probably rest assured that they really don't care.
I feel as though I have returned home to a different life, and I'm excited to explore.
*Detroit, I have nothing against you personally, only against taking two planes in one afternoon with a five month old baby. Just so we're clear.