I woke up this morning thinking about my own bedroom: the blue of the walls, the quilt we received for a wedding gift, the short walk down the hall to June’s room, my plants. After over one month on the road, these thoughts are expected like the hatching of a spring egg. It was only a matter of time. It is a part of nature, I suppose, to miss your nest.
Yesterday, June followed a path of tire tracks down the shoreline of the beach. I think she wanted to be alone because she didn’t look back for me to join her. So, I let her wander away for some time before finally following her footprints in the sunken white sand to where she stood. Happily, she greeted me with a seashell and a smile. Above us, airplanes dotted the cloudless sky. A perfect day for flying, I thought, as June and I slowly counted them pass, “Onnneee, twoooo”. Like the planes, everything about the world seemed to be in slow motion today. Even the palm trees’ leaves rustled in half-time to the benign swooning of the wind. And so June and I moved slowly too, now holding hands, letting the cautious lull of the waves call us back to the water’s edge.
A couple walking their golden lab stopped to talk with me and June. “It always made me emotional,” the woman said to me, “to watch my children play in the ocean. I almost want to cry just watching your daughter now.” I agreed with her instantly. There are moments watching June splash in the ocean when I well with tears for no reason other than the fact that she is mine and perfect and life is all too fleeting. We shared a conversation this way for some time, passing travel stories back and forth before their dog pulled her leash to go. I was almost sad to watch them walk down the shore. Instantly, I realized that what I miss the most about home is not my things, but my tribe of friends.
After washing the sand from June’s feet we walked back down the road to our rental home where Sean was just finishing the last of his day’s work. June and I always crave this hour with him when our family becomes three again. His presence always seems to take the tired edge away from the late afternoon. I thought of our home again, but this time I wasn’t sad. Transitions are hard and leaving is never easy, but I am more than content to spend my days here in the sun with my family. Eventually, this trip will end, so I must try to stay present and grateful for every moment we have in the place together.