Home again, naturally.

As the plane circled over Kennedy Airport I wondered exactly why I'd made this decision. Knowing full well my father wanted me home for good and the fear I'd felt over the past three days since the earthquake made returning a more than distinct possibility. I was pleased when the plane landed. A friend picked me up at the airport - I hadn't told anyone I was coming home. For the weekend, I kept repeating like a mantra. Only for the weekend.

When I walked into the house around 10PM my mother, of course, cried. My father was asleep in his La-Z-Boy lounger and awoke with a start. I was replaying hundreds of nights - my walking through the side door after a date and him awakening with a start. I almost tripped over the "remote" cord - remember the "first" remote t.v.'s with the box on the cord that stretched across the room? - but, I digress.

After an hour of so of conversation with my mom - her repeatedly asking if I was alright, my repeatedly saying "yes" and neither one of us believing it at all - I went up to bed. I had no idea what I was to do with the next two days and wondered if this was all a huge mistake. As I crawled into my bed, I was questioning just about everything in my life.

But, I slept very soundly. I felt safe.