One week away

I’ve been away from home for a week, but it feels like a lifetime. I admit, as I was traveling to my destination, I felt the excitement of a new adventure. I was glad that I didn’t allow maternal separation anxiety to keep me from going out into the world. I felt like, in the long run, it was probably best for everyone if mom still had her adventures.

Since shortly after arriving though, I’ve been sick. A really pernicious cold or flu that has lasted several days already and keeps me in bed a good 15 hours a day. With great effort, I try to emerge from my lair for a few hours each day. The rest of the time, I’m locked away, alone, with no even so much as a TV or a radio to keep me company.

In the past, I think some of my world travels were in part a search for home, a place where I would belong. Now I have that security of a home and a family. I miss Mark’s hugs, I miss River’s slobbers and coos. A few days after I arrived, I began to count down the days until I go home.