Welcome Home

The intoxicating joy of life in New Zealand kept me refreshed for most of the 38+ hours it took to get back to Maine, although energy flagged when we got to Bangor shortly before midnight. While David was stressing about getting possum tails and toys through Customs, and about making connections in LAX, I was simply blissing out on the beauty and gift of the trip.

But arrive we did, to weather that seemed the more bitter for our having been in the tropics. When I first found the car, I was tickled to death that it had so little snow on it. We got to work with shovels and scrapers and broom, and had it dug out in a quarter hour. Thanks to the power of German engineering, it started right up. Woo Hoo!

As it turned out, we would have been better off with more snow! It had rained heavily on top of the earlier dumping, and under the car was nothing but glare ice. Cat litter, help from parking lot guys, and many coaxing words would not move it. Can you say, frostbite? A quick call to AAA was in order. I nearly cried when the dispatcher told me it would be 45 minutes or more, and that I'd darned well better have my picture identification ready.

Just a half hour later, as the delightful driver finished his work, I started digging through my purse with frozen fingers, asking him, "ok, so you need my photo i.d. now?"

"I see you," he said, "that's enough."

Those words made me laugh with happiness for so many reasons, all having to do with the journey taken and the one begun.

This morning's email brought a message from Mom that Aunt Marilyn died while we were gone. She must have been about 147 years old, and was failing for some time, but when young, she was quite a powerhouse. The timing of her passage brought home to me the wonder of this trip, and of all the other crazy things I do. I am healthy, I have an adventurous spirit, and the ability to go where curiosity and passion take me. And while those gifts remain in my hands, I will treasure and honor them by using them to the fullest. "Someday" for me is right now.

On the way home, one of those annoying mandatory flight safety videos showed Richard Branson talking about how airplanes can't take off going downwind. They need a headwind before they can fly: "What you push against lifts you up." So Cyclone Wilma, the knife-edge switchbacks with no guardrails, the crosswinds in the plains, the Gulch of Death, the freezing sheet pouring rain, the challenges of a rookie riding with a talented team of motorcyclists... all those things, lifted me up.

Happy to be home, can't wait to go again. 

Grateful Heart