Travel

On the road

It’s late. We’re driving, en route to Charlottesville to visit Chris’ dad. My parents drove us the 3.5 hours to Chicago this morning, we flew 90 minutes to Dulles airport, and then loaded six gigantic bags into our rental car in the middle of a torrential downpour around 9pm. Changed a diaper in the back seat, sung approximately 567 more rounds of “you are my sunshine” to put Will to sleep in his carseat, and headed down highway 29.

We keep passing county road numbers that I remember from our hiking days. We passed the Faquier County sign and I leaned into the front seat to tell Chris “fauq your county too!” the way we always used too. Childish, yes but funny still even with six bags full of too much stuff, a baby in the back, and miles to go before we sleep.

Somewhere a few miles back “our song” came up on shuffle. When we first started dating, “Life Less Ordinary” by Carbon Leaf became our song because it was a rare non-top 40 alternative song us hopelessly-uncool-with-music people both knew. Now it seems so fitting, almost prophetic.

live a life less ordinary, live a life extraordinary with me.

My hometown no longer feels like home, I spent nine days feeling like a stranger in a strange place every time I stepped out my parents’ front door. It was a nice visit, but that’s what it felt like- a visit, not a homecoming.

The homecoming is on this road we are driving now, listening to the same bad music we did before we left for China, laughing at the same signs, pointing out the same sites as if we haven’t made the exact same observations dozens of times before.

It’s Sunday night, half the flight to D.C. seemed to be made up of girls my age or a little younger, all with a weekend bag, an oversized purse and cute flats on their feet. I remember when I used to be one of them, taking the Sunday night flight back to D.C. after a quick visit home.

Tonight though I waited for our bags, with the most amazing husband in the world and a baby boy so wonderful he makes my heart explode. It felt really good.

I was afraid it wouldn’t, that I’d feel nostalgic and maybe even a tinsy bit regretful watching all the girls I used to be deplane and catch a super shuttle to the life I used to lead as a poor, carefree twenty something in D.C.

I didn’t though. I felt happy, content with my life. Even as our six immigrant bags spilled all over the exit ramp, even as the rain soaked everything and we made dinner out of a fruit cup from Starbucks because everywhere serving real dinner on the road closes before 9pm. My life is extraordinary. it’s weird and sometimes a little crazy, but mostly it’s wonderful and Chris and Will make it so.

Sorry for the rambles, more later from Charlottesville and/or D.C.

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One thought on “On the road

  1. Pingback: Notable in 2012 | Hot Pot

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