Home Again

How can I even begin to tell you about my trip? I guess I can start by saying that what Meg from The Pages of Our Crazy Life commented about (me) “coming back a changed woman” turned out to be entirely true. And I knew that the trip would change me, but I had no idea in what ways and to what extent. It was the kind of experience that makes you question and/or appreciate so many things about your life. Questioning my priorities. Learning new truths. Appreciating what we have – and what we don’t have. Realizing that friendship transcends culture and language, and that the emotions we experience as autism parents are universal and run so deep, even on the other side of the world.

I came home three days ago to a 108-degree heat wave, a cat-scratched leather couch, and an ant infestation. I have three-foot-high weeds in my yard (that somehow grew in the heat), a major work deadline (that was already extended because of the trip), and about two hundred unread/unanswered emails (that I can’t even begin to tackle). I’ve missed blogging like crazy. And let me just say that this 108-degree heat wave actually feels good compared to the 87% humidity and heat in Nepal. I’m serious.

I think the only way I can write about this nearly month-long trip is to break it up into segments – because that’s exactly how it happened. I started off by celebrating the Fourth of July with the SoCal contingent of my extended family. Then I went with my brother and sister to visit our childhood homes, picked up my sons and took them to the Grand Canyon, spent a day on the beach with my dad, went winetasting with some relatives, and then flew to Nepal for two weeks, where I experienced so many amazing things. And all of it begs to be written about.

So, my friends, if you’ll indulge me, I’ll feature a particular part or topic of my trip in several different posts over the next couple of weeks. I wouldn’t be able to do it justice otherwise. I’ll also need to spread the posts out a bit because my boss was right about something (as she often is).  I dragged myself into work Tuesday morning, after approximately 22 hours of plane time. My boss gave me a hug and told me it’ll take a week for me to get over the jetlag. I waved it off and said, “Oh, I’ll be fine in three days.” Well, today is the third day, and all I can say is – What the hell do I know?!

Carved wooden doors at the Kathmandu Airport. More pics and stories to come!