And now, I'm home

It’s a cold and rainy night here, and this Paekakariki cottage with its cozy fireplace is about a million miles away from where I was just yesterday. Ok, 8500 miles.

The trip was as effortless as you might imagine such a trip could be. It was, in fact, a day filled with loveliness. Mom drove me to work Friday morning with my bags which weighed more than I do. Then a beautiful day with my class. We had hard times, sweet times, hard times which have sweetness in them. As I said goodbye to them, I got choked up—the first time I’ve ever begun to cry in front of a class because we were parting. Then, hugging many of them goodbye, I did start to cry, in earnest. And then, as if that weren’t enough, we ended at the offices, where I had to finish packing up my old office and saying goodbye to colleagues I love. Then, one of the colleagues I love, JR, took me to the airport and hugged me goodbye, and I was on my own.

The flights were easy, decent seats, unobjectionable food, good seatmates. I got to read a book I’ve been dying to read (HP7) and watch a movie I’ve been dying to see (Becoming Jane—opening in the US next week). Lovely. But the best part was the last flight. The sun was newly-risen, but was up above the cloud level, and the whole landscape below us was a sea of grey clouds. As we began to land—time and distance mysterious to me in a sleepy fog of my own—we descended to a space between two cloud layers. And inside those two layers the sun was somehow fuchsia and magnificent and I gasped with the pleasure of it. But down down we continued to go (what an hors d’oeuvre of a little flight—descending nearly as soon as we leveled off after the ascent). We fell between one cloud layer and then another. We were 1000 feet in the air? 10,000? 100? I had no idea because it seemed like the clouds could go on forever. Then, we cleared the last layer. We were in the open air with Kapiti island under us and the vague glimmers of Paekakriki and Raumati and Paraparaumu. Now my eyes filled with tears again as the early-morning sun faded from bright pink to a more sedate and moving golden. I saw the snow-capped hills in the near distance. I wanted to get up and yell, “I’m home! I get to live HERE!” And that was even before I saw the kids.

The rest of this day, too, has been fantastic. The new house we bought (which I’ve just visited for the first time since buying it) is so much more beautiful than I would have guessed. Michael and I are struggling with plans for it, but it’s not a struggle of “what might work here?” but rather, “since we have so many magnificent possibilities, what would be best?” The children are fantastic. And then we ran into my new friend M on the beach with her daughter, and they came for tea and stayed for dinner. So there were friends and family, good food and good conversation, and a warm place to be on a rainy Sunday night. And now I’ll get this out to you folks. It’s 8:30, the magic hour where I get to go to sleep! (And not a second too soon, because I’ve been typing in scenes from my dreams as I fall asleep at this computer!) I hope you’re all well, and that you’re up for more waxing on about the New Zealand beauty thing!