We've been home more than a week and for seven of those days, I was sick with the flu. I returned healthy, but the first Monday I went to work, I got sick. Coincidence? I think not.
When we arrived home, I felt like George Bailey in "It's a Wonderful Life." Remember the scene when he comes back to life and is thrilled to see his town and his house intact? He runs around saying "Hello you old Bailey Building & Loan" and comes home to "Hello you drafty old house" and broken stairs, etc. He finds Zuzu's petals in his pocket and knows he's home and alive.
That was me that night. When we entered, we went around the house checking for any problems. I went into the basement to check it was dry, and it was perfect. I just jumped on my big red couch. I wanted to touch everything, which made me realize I was home.
Truth be told, I was homesick before I left. I knew I was going to miss the comforts of my house. You don't realize how much you really care for something until it's not there. The difference between India and the US is quite substantial. When I had gone to India when I was in college, I returned to the US with culture shock. Everything seemed too perfect and surreal. I was angered by the wastefulness of Americans. It wasn't fair or real.
This time, I felt more relief to be home. Watching mindless reality TV shows is a bit of a shock. People are stressing about the most inconsequential things, while there are people struggling with basic necessities of life.
Anyway, we all miss the family in India. My daughter longs to call her grandmother every day and we have to explain that there's a time difference. We hope we're able to go again in another two years.
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