Homecoming

While we drove home from the Nashville airport last night, and throughout the long dinner stop in Cookville, we were entertained by the thrilling tales of my daughter Shelby’s European travels in the last fifteen days. Regaling us with descriptions of London, Paris, the Swiss Alps, Venice, and Munich, her enthusiasm could hardly be contained. At one point, as I listened, I had to wonder, “have I ever been that excited about anything?”

Her favorite part of the trip, which I’m sure would have been mine as well, was Switzerland. She loved the Alps, and was properly impressed by the majesty of the Matahorn. The allure of Paris was lost on her, saying that it was smelly and dirty for the most part, and not the soaring symbol of romance she had been led to believe. As a father, I was greatly relieved. No infatuations with a swarthy lothario named “Pierre.”

She made lots of new friends, and had told lots of stories that ended with “it was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.” She also learned some lessons about drinking tap water in foreign countries, which led to an unpleasant incident at Notre Dame, but otherwise, she seemed to have a great time.

Now that she’s home, we’ve got tons of photos to view, and probably lots more stories that didn’t make it through the first draft of “and then…” That’s okay, I have time.

I realize that she returns from travel much like I do, excited to see everyone at first, but then retreating into a required period of decompression. She is grumpy and stand-offish, used to being alone, or at least not having to deal with the family dynamic. I feel her pain, but I don’t appreciate being on the other end of the ugly. If it was meant as a lesson for me…a look in the mirror…I didn’t like it.

As happy as I am that she had a good time, I’m more thrilled that she’s home. I deal with my own excessive travel much better than I deal with the thought of my wife or children out in this big dangerous world without me there to protect them. It’s an old fashioned, probably sexist mindset, but it’s the only mind I have.