I’m getting a little anxious for my family to show up, already! I take the early bus to Antigua to meet up with my dad in fourteen days. Two more weeks. I haven’t seen anyone from my tribe for five months.
I don’t really get homesick, not here at the beach anyway, where I have turtle eggs to bury, English lesson plans to put together, and a puppy to keep an eye on. That isn’t to say home is never on my mind. Memories of the stretches of road that I know well, especially the places where I learned to drive, the smells and sounds of my sister’s Portland apartment when it is full of good food and happy people and grouchy cats every Third Sunday Brunch, and the doors in my house, starting with the front door. How cool, Oregon chipi chipi, light rain, feels; different from even the Antigua chipi chipi. These images and accompanying sensations flicker through my mind occasionally and my heart strains to remain in the present.
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