We had 10 hours in front of us now, and so we turned up the audio book–David Eddings if you must know–and tried to stay sane for that amount of time. Once we hit Washington State it was annoying highways, but we were unwilling to sacrifice time for the visual pleasure of trees. The best part of all was in the morning before we set off, pressing that ‘home’ button on the navi.
Home has always been a very loaded term for me. People ask about home in terms of where you grew up, where your family is based, or even your ethnic makeup. I was going ‘home’ now, for the first time, to a home I’d never been to. It was exciting. Even now, when people ask me where home is (or for small talk, where are you from) I say Seattle, Renton. It seems most people think that ‘home’ is something stationary. Its not. It moves, can be two or three places at once and really has no limits. Or that could just be the traveler in me.
Anyway we arrive at something which looks like a picture I saw online. I catch sight of my family name, and I boldly approach the door and knock with authority.
I hear a small scurrying sound, and the door hesitantly slides open and I catch a glimpse of my sister’s face. She screams twice and slams the door in my face. I laugh and laugh and am so pleased by the level of surprise. Its been about 6 months since I’ve seen her.
Eventually she opens the door again still screaming, and I know that all is well. Later that night I pull a similar trick on my mom who we are picking up from the airport. I hide, and after the rest of the expected family greets her, I pounce! More screaming.
It was worth the rush.