It's a little after 9:00 pm and I am home and fresh from a chamomile-infused bath and shortly on my way to bed. Today was kind of a tough day.
It started out wonderfully, with delicious breakfast cooked and served to me at "Cafe Candi," as my niece refers to her kitchen. Outstanding breakfast, superb service, and cozy company! Then I got some special time with my grand niece, while we read to each other from John Steinbeck's The Red Pony. The little Bug (her nickname) is just starting 5th grade and reads aloud better than most adults I know!
And then it was time to get on the road. Within an hour, I could tell this trip home was going to be more of a challenge than the trip into Omaha had been. It started with a vague agitation that built throughout the day. It took a great deal of concentration to keep it under control, and a couple of times I found myself simply screaming out loud for a few seconds just to relieve the tension. Good thing I was taking the less traveled route, with less fellow travelers to observe my bizarre behavior.
As near as I could figure it out, it was about being alone and being lonely and missing my usual traveling partner. If I didn't travel with Bill, I always came home to him. I was feeling the missing pieces, the change to my usual story. My mood swung from blue to dark-night-of-the-soul and back to blue. It got a little easier, the closer I got to home. By the time the Rockies were in sight, the irritation was easing up and fatigue was setting in.
But there is still the emptiness of no one at home to hear about my trip and fill me in on what I missed while I was gone.