Loud
thunder wakes me around 5:30. All I can think
of is standing in the pouring rain with my suitcase and big carry-on, and
then, sitting on a train soaking wet for five hours.
But
that doesn’t happen. The torrential rain
miraculously pauses while I wait for the 6:50 bus from Bourne to Providence,
and then pauses again when I reach Providence and walk about 15 minutes to the
train station. I am home by 1:30. A
rather effortless 7.5-hour trip door-to-door.
I
am always happy to come home.
I
like:
Not negotiating what time to eat dinner. There is more than a two-hour gap between my mother's preferred dining hour and mine.
Watching the TODAY Show in
the morning as I answer emails.
Being in my own space,
surrounded by my own things.
Getting the NY Times delivered every morning.
Having a great sushi place nearby.
Being able to walk to the
corner if I’m in the mood for a good cup of coffee.
Seeing people and cars in
motion after nine pm.
Knowing anything I want is within easy access.
But
I will miss:
The magnificent beach a
short walk from my parent’s house, though I only went once the entire week I
was there.
Gigantic $10 lobster rolls
from Dean’s.
Ellie the cat, especially when
she jumps up and nestles onto my lap.
Driving a car.
Buying fresh lobster meat for
only $40/pound at the local fish market.
Having central air and
being able to sleep in a freezing 68-degree room.
Wearing no
make-up and having it not matter.
Not being tempted to spend
money every time I walk out the door.
Being with my mom, and
laughing, which we did, often.
Seeing my dad everyday. Yesterday, before I left, he said, “You have
never looked more beautiful. When you’re
not here, I miss you.”
Despite
all the bad weather, I’m glad for the week I spent with my parents. I know it was mutual.
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