Staying Too Long at the Party

Our trip was amazing. Until the last day.

Which informs me that perhaps we stayed a day too long. You can’t know that in the planning but once there, you can see that all the energy that poured forth to make the first three days so incredible was all that there was in the pot.

Then it’s time to go home.

To the embrace of my warm, sweet children, awaiting our return.

To the familiarity of home.

To routine and expectation and checking things off the to-do list.

Nothing horrible indicated that we stayed too long on this vacation. In fact, this morning arose beautiful and clean and crisp and quiet, with an early sunrise this far north and east and the fresh air that you can only find far from a city and very close to the unadulterated ocean.

The water here, so cold and clear and deep, perfect for a variety of plants and wildlife to thrive.

On our last full day here, we took a boat ride far out into the Gulf of Maine to look for whales. We saw none and while I love sailing and the rock and sway of being on the water, I have to say unabashedly that I absolutely hated that boat.

Too many swells, too much rocking. I spent the majority of the ride eyes-closed and breathing deep to avoid unleashing all that I’d eaten on the trip.

Throughout the ship people held puke-bags to their mouths and I had to leave those rooms, to not fall into the domino effect of sickness.

The motion sickness left me cranky and annoyed. The day was shot. For hours, I felt slightly dizzy and off-center, and my husband? He was just another character in a play, waiting in the wings for his speaking part.

I know, it sounds harsh. But the truth is, we’d done all that we wanted to do by Saturday night. To plan a four-day trip instead of five would have seen skimpy when we were planning at home, but then if we had only been gone for four days, we’d be home, now, having seen the children off to school, and I’d be able to spend the afternoon at field day for Eliana and Shaya.

I’d meet Asher after the 6th grade pool party instead of sending him to a friend’s house until we get back.

But no matter. It is what it is.

The profound lesson in all of this is that when you love your life, you don’t need to go away for quite so long. Everything you get by vacationing somewhere new and exciting can come in a short span of days, and then send you back to where you ultimately belong.

There’s no place like home. I’m clicking my heels in the Bangor airport and waiting to be transported back.

Connect with Lynne

Register for The Writers Community