Coming Home

We had an incredibly long day.  Our day started at about 6am, when we woke up and started loading the car up to head to the airport.  Everything went smoothly, and we were through security and sitting at our gate in no time.  We looked at our smiling kids, and wondered if the happy mood would last for the next thirteen hours of travel.

It turns out that they did extremely well.  The last time we flew with them, they were both under two, and so they both sat in our laps.  This time, they each had their own seats.  I had some reservations about how well it would go, especially considering that when I bought the tickets, Christian was barely even sitting.  I was very pleasantly surprised by both of them.  Christian sat, all by himself, for all three flights.  Tessie read, colored, and even beaded a necklace.  The only hard moment came during our descent into San Fransisco, when all of our ears were threatening to explode.  There may have been some screaming at that moment, but I couldn't hear anything.

We finally arrived at our destination, and stepped into the warm, humid night air of Kona.  My Aunt picked us up, and the kids both fell asleep before we had gone more than a mile down the road.  We pulled up to my Aunt and Uncle's house, and I was filled with an overwhelming sense of contentment.  I brought the sleeping kids in, and put them to bed, then looked around the familiar house.  They live in the house that my parents built when I was a baby.  The house is filled with furniture my father built, the wallpaper in the bathroom is exactly the same, and my height is chronicled on the kitchen wall.  I sat on the couch with a beer in my hand, and smiled.  Coming home is a beautiful thing.