My wife and I oftentimes say that the best part of any trip is coming home. There’s just something about walking through the door after a trip–we love it.
I did just that a few hours ago, wrapping up a trip to visit my parents in Ohio. It was a tough trip, as I drove through rain more than half of the 450 miles. Yuck.
Sometimes I think about the differences between coming and going.
On the trip up, the car is packed neatly and everything has a place. On the trip home, everything is in the car…somewhere. (Except for coming back home after Christmas. Um, Mom, how am I going to get that in the car?)
On the trip up, I’m fresh and ready for a road trip. On the trip home, I’m tired from all of the interaction (as good as it is!) and a strange bed. Although, I have to admit, my folks’ guest bed is extremely comfortable. Unfortunately, it’s a double bed and I’m 6’4″ tall. I sleep diagonally.
On the trip up, conversation is usually plentiful. On the trip home, there’s a lot of music and thinking time.
Our (it won’t be tax season, so my wife the tax preparer can go) next trip should be in the early summer, and I can’t wait to see everyone again.
Maybe we could fly home.