HOME

We’re home and it feels good. I missed it.

This gets me to thinking about what home is. I have always believed, it is where the heart is. To expand on this, my heart is where my nearest and dearest are. Let’s start with Julian and Johnny. But wait a sec, they were with me so what was I missing?

Eee-gads! Could it mean I’ve reached an age that when I don’t get a decent nights sleep, which I wasn’t getting while we were away, it’s because I’m not in my own bed, my own pillow, my own familiar surroundings. Couldn’t be!

Could it be my gusto for travel has waned. I don’t think so, once a traveler always a traveler. Except I have to admit airline travel isn’t what it use to be. The glamour walked out with a terrorist plot beneath each shoe. A now fuzzy memory of the good old days.

Of course, the reason for our travel to San Diego was stressful, heart surgery can be like that, but I never doubted for a heartbeat that Johnny, a star patient would come running out of surgery, with no shortness of breath. So, our reason for travel can’t explain my missing home.

So what is it? I think, and I’m guessing here, I think missing home, is me taking a hard look at what life outside of Mexico might be like. There is an unsettled feeling creeping into me as I look into the future, a future that is speeding along and I try and imagine not living in Mexico. I gave a veiled look during our month in San Diego as a sort of dress rehearsal; rather unfair, I know, considering the circumstances.

I am a logistic type person. Logistically I believe it’s the right decision to leave Mexico for Julian’s high school years. I can recognize and analyze all the reasons why and can visualize the positives. What I’m having trouble with is thinking about leaving our life as we know it. A life I ventured into with a five year plan that grew into fifteen years. Fifteen years of making friendships that are as solid as family, and that---makes Mexico home.

My heart doesn’t always keep up with what makes sense.