what you bring with you

Before I left last week, I recounted my fears to my friends about going home. “I love it here,” I told them, “and I am afraid that going back to Madison is going to mess that up.”

D, ever wise, looked at me and said, “It’s usually not about what you do at home, but what you bring with you when you come back. At least for me anyway.”

I wish I had listened to those words more carefully because, God help me, here is a list of what I brought back: memories of a very, very beautiful and loving wedding, tears from some very, very sad goodbyes, the realization that my parents are doing okay and that’s good, two very lonely hours on Friday afternoon in which none of my friends were available, I had no plans and I didn’t belong anywhere, warmth from sunny Madison skies, rage about the new Beltline, the knowledge that my family (nuclear and extended) loves me very much, three nights of amazing sleep in my old bed, a sense of helplessness about the ill-advised (now going on permanent) hiatus I did not initiate, so many strength giving hugs, a little bit of laughter with old friends, and a six pack of Spotted Cow.

At least we know my priorities were straight.