There's No Place like Home
It's easy to romanticize the evening before a big trip—or better yet, the moment you turn on your out-of-office message. You sit there and bask in the possibility of complete disconnection from regular life and its responsibilities, whether it be for a long weekend, a week, however long you've managed.
But what about that moment you arrive home? Why don't we talk more about that?
Adam and I spent the last week in Long Lake, New York with his family.
And as magical as it is entering Adirondack Park for the first time, I believe there is equal pleasure in rounding the corner to your very own street after time away.
"Have our flowers always looked like that?" I asked Adam, squinting my eyes as we backed into the driveway.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"They're just so...healthy. Lush," I murmured.
And our house! I decided it was the coziest house in the world with its ballet-slipper pink stucco and grayish blue shutters. Practically French provençal, just like I'd told the baffled painters last fall.
Since one of our dogs is a puddler—Dewey, of course it's Dewey—Adam walked through the house first since he's somehow able to stride by them without engaging in any hugs, kisses, or exclamations. We properly greeted them in the backyard where Margot actually purred with delight and Dewey peed and yipped happily.
While Adam drove to my parents' house to pick up Gus, I fed Margot and Dewey supper before taking a long shower.
The bathroom felt like a spa with its clean subway tile and green houseplants perched on shelves. I turned the water on hot and stood there basking in the tranquility.
Not only did Adam bring home Gus Bear, he also came back with an order of Skyline Chili. (Sometimes I still wonder if Adam is real, he is just that perfect.) We turned on Maine Cabin Masters and snuggled into our sofa with all three dogs nestled between us. Sensationally satisfying.
I went to bed by 9pm, delighting in the clean sheets and heavy down comforter. Such luxury! Such bliss!
A few hours later, a little dachshund moseyed his way under the covers and snuggled into the crook behind my knees. A French bulldog started snoring, and a nearly twelve-year-old golden retriever scuffled beneath the bed.
And as much as I love my handsome bearded husband, I think we both appreciated being back in a king-size bed. It's nice having your own space, right?
This morning, I woke up and made myself a cup of coffee. I lit a candle and flipped through the children's books my cousin so kindly donated to our Little Free Library while watching early-morning walkers and joggers pass by.
Taking vacations is important for a lot of reasons—time to disconnect and relax, an opportunity to experience new places and new people.
But I think one of its greatest gifts is a deep appreciation of home.