Back to Reality

It's so hard to come back from vacation. We just got back from a week in Mexico in a little village about an hour north of Puerto Vallarta called Rincon de Guayabitos. The water was warm, but not hot. The air was warm but not hot or humid. The sand was soft. The beer was cold. The limes were tangy. The tequilla was smooth. The music was festive and loud and happy. The food was flavorful and spicy. The market was colorful and bustling. Whales swam at the mouth of the bay while we stood on the beach and watched them slap their tails on the water and breach while hunting for fish (I think). And not once did I get homesick. In fact, my daughter cried on the plane home because she wanted to stay. When we got home, I'll admit that my own bed was more comfortable, but other than that, there was no great emotional connection. I realized that our house is just walls and things. In a sense, that's a good thing because now I know that no matter what life brings, I don't have to be in this house or this town. I can go where life takes us when it takes us there. I also now think our family has the taste for travel and I hope we keep it and travel as much of the world as often as we can afford while the 4 of us are still together as a family and our kids are young. Coming back to the real world is painful (especially when it's so unseasonably cold!), but I know now that we will have more stamps in our passports as soon as possible.