The trip home was largely uneventful. Mother-in-law and I took the bus from Pune to Mumbai, and a movie played loudly the whole way, discouraging any conversation. (She was talking to me again by this point, thanks to the morning cup of tea I made for her. My peace offering.) A few hours were spent at her sisters house, where I mostly just tried to stay awake and pretend like I was interested in what they were saying...in a language I can't understand. Then it was off to the airport. There were some delays and some turbulence during the flights, but I was passed out like I'd been drugged so I really didn't care.
Unexpectedly, to me at least, the strange part was when I actually arrived home.
The entire drive from Dulles to DC, I couldn't stop staring at my husband (at least when I wasn't scarfing down the delicious cheeseburger he brought for me). It was as though I couldn't believe he was actually beside me instead of just on Skype video. And not just an "oh I'm so happy to be home I can't believe it" but literally I could not believe it.
When we reached the apartment, everything was at once familiar and completely unfamiliar at the same time. Everything looked just the way I'd left it. But I found myself not knowing where to put things and having to open multiple cabinets or closets to find what I was looking for. It was like being in a completely new house. Even though everything was kept in the same place it had been since we moved in.
Being away from home for two months is nothing like being away for a long weekend. It's disorienting to be unsure of things in your own home.
I couldn't remember the quirks of our shower. I couldn't remember where my phone charger was kept or even which one it was. I opened the wrong cabinet to get a water glass. I woke up in the night, in the dark, aware that there was something beside me but I didn't know what or where I was. It had to be at least a full thirty seconds before I realized I was at home and the mound beside me in the bed was my husband. Well, the big one anyway. The small one on the other side of me was the cat. That took like an extra minute to figure out. I got up to go to the bathroom and walked straight into the door, which hubby keeps closed at night. As I'm unpacking, I can't remember where exactly I kept everything for my morning routine. I have no idea where my house keys are, and I had trouble locking the bolt behind my husband when he left for work this morning.
I'm home, but it feels almost like I've never lived here before. Like while I was away, hubby moved to a new apartment and this is the first time I've been there.
It sucks. I in no way anticipated it would be so strange to be home. Don't get me wrong, I'm ridiculously happy to be here. But there is most definitely an adjustment period required. Yay I'm home! But where do I keep my shoes again?
I'm sure things will settle down in a day or two and it will be like I never left. All my things will be in their places and I'll get back to my routine. The cat will stop chasing me every time I move in the direction of the door, and will accept that when I leave the house I really will come back this time. Hubby won't sound confused that I can call him in the middle of the day. I'll remember to cross the street at corners and give people adequate personal space on the trains and buses. But in the meantime...well, let me remember this if I ever again think going on such a long trip is a good idea.
Unexpectedly, to me at least, the strange part was when I actually arrived home.
The entire drive from Dulles to DC, I couldn't stop staring at my husband (at least when I wasn't scarfing down the delicious cheeseburger he brought for me). It was as though I couldn't believe he was actually beside me instead of just on Skype video. And not just an "oh I'm so happy to be home I can't believe it" but literally I could not believe it.
When we reached the apartment, everything was at once familiar and completely unfamiliar at the same time. Everything looked just the way I'd left it. But I found myself not knowing where to put things and having to open multiple cabinets or closets to find what I was looking for. It was like being in a completely new house. Even though everything was kept in the same place it had been since we moved in.
Being away from home for two months is nothing like being away for a long weekend. It's disorienting to be unsure of things in your own home.
I couldn't remember the quirks of our shower. I couldn't remember where my phone charger was kept or even which one it was. I opened the wrong cabinet to get a water glass. I woke up in the night, in the dark, aware that there was something beside me but I didn't know what or where I was. It had to be at least a full thirty seconds before I realized I was at home and the mound beside me in the bed was my husband. Well, the big one anyway. The small one on the other side of me was the cat. That took like an extra minute to figure out. I got up to go to the bathroom and walked straight into the door, which hubby keeps closed at night. As I'm unpacking, I can't remember where exactly I kept everything for my morning routine. I have no idea where my house keys are, and I had trouble locking the bolt behind my husband when he left for work this morning.
I'm home, but it feels almost like I've never lived here before. Like while I was away, hubby moved to a new apartment and this is the first time I've been there.
It sucks. I in no way anticipated it would be so strange to be home. Don't get me wrong, I'm ridiculously happy to be here. But there is most definitely an adjustment period required. Yay I'm home! But where do I keep my shoes again?
I'm sure things will settle down in a day or two and it will be like I never left. All my things will be in their places and I'll get back to my routine. The cat will stop chasing me every time I move in the direction of the door, and will accept that when I leave the house I really will come back this time. Hubby won't sound confused that I can call him in the middle of the day. I'll remember to cross the street at corners and give people adequate personal space on the trains and buses. But in the meantime...well, let me remember this if I ever again think going on such a long trip is a good idea.
Welcome home!!!!!
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