Am I seriously getting a lump in my throat as we pass the outlet mall in Woodburn?
This is embarrassing. But I am admitting it. We fly down Interstate 5, Heather at the wheel, and I am getting distracted by all the signs for restaurants where we did not eat. I hold a caramel macchiato from Starbucks in one hand, and a peach smoothie from Jamba Juice in the other. I feel like a total glutton, but I AM hungry after being too anxious to eat for the last few days.
I feel like I am going to throw up from the anticipation for this day.
We have a short flight to Seattle, 3 hours there, and then Seattle to Beijing. That should be a 12 hour flight. Sorry to all of you I told it was 15 hours. (It felt like 24, so I feel bad for exaggerating, but not TOO bad).
Actually, it is harder emotionally this time than last time. Even with me not being pregnant now! As our plane lifts off from Seattle, my last view of my “home country” is blocked by a pleasant looking Chinese man’s newspaper. I officially hate him for the rest of the flight. I cannot stop crying. I am thankful for Matthew, he doesn’t understand, but he is being kind, and holding Esther and distracting Zoe so she doesn’t get it into her head that going to China is sad or bad.
I look toward where I could see out the window if the guy would put down his newspaper. And the tears just flow. Matthew says “thanks for doing this with me Babe” and I am still crying, but I am happy he is trying!
I love America, I LOVE my family. I miss my friends already. I love what is familiar. I like knowing the language. I like feeling like I belong instead of being on the outside.
On the other side of the world from America is my home. And I am going there. So it is going to be ok. Newspaper man, (you know, the one I hate?) is now shaving his non-existent peach fuzz face with an electric shaver. He has been at it for at LEAST 10 minutes now. THANK GOD. I mean, seriously, we were all about to start calling him woolly mammoth or something.