“How is home?”
A question that I dread answering, yet am so excited to be talking face to face with the person asking.
“How is home?”
The question that makes my stomach turn and all the feels water up in my eyes.
“How is home?”
A question that has a modified response depending on who is asking.
So…How is home?
Home is great. Home is so strange, yet so familiar. Home is laying in my bed and crying because I get to lay down in that bed every single day. Home is washing my hands with hot water in a public place. Home is fun! Home is being able to get into my car and driving where ever I want to go without a buddy or a team phone. Home is getting a new dog, Charlie. Home is unlimited cell phone service. Home is no more count downs and a lot later nights. Home is face timing my team mates then hiding my phone for hours. Home is random trips. Home is still not waking up to my alarms. Home is processing and loving every second of decent wifi. Home is lonely and so busy. Home is not understanding what the heck in going on. Home is asking the people I just spent 11 months with for their phone number. Home is swallowing that big lump in my throat and choking back tears as I walk through the airport. Home is running into people randomly and having to act like I have it all together. Home is walking back into an airport that once held 50 of my squad mates as they picked lice out of hair, but being alone this time. Home is finding balance. Home is cramming “How was your year?” into a 30 second answer. Home is still not understanding how airplanes work. Home is being so excited when a squad mate snaps me. Home is hot baths and fluffy towels. Home is dreaming of a nine year old boy and begging God that he is getting fed that day. Home is thinking back 11 months and trying to remember the beautiful mountains of Lesotho. Home is searching through boxes to find all my “real” clothes. Home is wondering if I am the only one feeling like this. Home is talking of memories that once were my reality. Home is walking past the gum your teammate likes and breaking down.
As I flew into Houston I looked down and saw what looked like a million pools in people’s back yards. Flashbacks of little kids carrying buckets on their heads flashed through my mind. I closed my eyes, choked back the tears and watched memories of elderly woman walking to and from their water source just to wash their laundry. I remembered a time where I had to go fetch water to bring into the house to do our dishes in Lesotho.
In one second I felt 47 different emotions. Thankfulness for the memories, anger from a lack of understanding and having so many unanswered questions, happiness because pools rock, guilt for buying a plane ticket to go see a teammate that cost more then a month’s salary for some people and sadness because why isn’t running available water everywhere.
It was in that moment that I realized. Im just trying to make sense of it all. Home. Pools. Airplanes. All of it.
So..how is home you might ask?
I’m not quite sure. My brain is working overtime to grasp some sort of understanding, because honestly, I love swimming pools, and I love people who need drinking water.
How do all the feelings coexist?
