dreams of home

i made a quick trip the US last week. the purpose of the trip was to return my kids to their mother. i was bringing them home, i was taking them to the place in the world they feel most comfortable, most welcome, most at ease. they had been with me for 8 weeks, first traveling in europe and then here in KL. this had been my favorite time of the year, it’s when i get to enjoy the things miss the most. it’s when i get to change my life back to one of parenting a family, from one of managing a company. it’s a time, a role and a place that i feel completely at home with.

arriving in the US was a collection of the normal processes of a returning trip, deplaning, passport control american style, baggage claim and the car ride home. the american “cell phone” i have which is normally an elegant but useless piece of junk here in asia, magically came alive and let me know that people were tying to contact me while i was away. mostly head hunters who had no idea i was half way around the world, people i have never met who follow a basic script meant to make me feel they are a long lost friend, trying to reconnect so they can help me find new happiness at work.

once we were at the kid’s house, there was an awkward moment where i was unsure if i should walk into the house or not. this is no longer my house, i am at best a guest and i am careful to remember that and act accordingly. the kids quickly slipped away, clearly happy to be back home after being so long removed. the dog was the most visibly happy to see me, mieka the golden retriever, jumped, ran, tugged and nipped her way into my heart. this is strange given mieka is an addition to the family that was made after i had moved away. we have met a few times, and i wondered if the happiness to see me was genuine, or if she was simply this happy to see everyone.

i said i was leaving; i needed a shower and wanted to go shopping. i was invited to stay for a hamburger from the grill. a real hamburger, one with the taste i remembered sounded wonderful. but, i had looked outside while playing with the dog; the grill was there on the side of the yard as i remembered leaving it a few years ago. the same grill we had cooked uncountable dinners on, the grill i had stood in the rain, holding an umbrella and flashlight so i could see the meats i was cooking for the family. and a few feet away was another grill, standing in the center of the space, claiming its place. i had remembered seeing this grill years before, on the porch of a friend. i remembered the smoke blowing in my face as the owner of the grill stood and passed me burgers and compliments, both of which tasted a bit off at the time. unsure of which grill would be used to cook, i decided to leave and skip the burger i missed so much.

i met friends, or people i worked with, but who were strangely unable to talk to me, unable to open up and share thoughts or stories. i offered to take them to dinner, a clam shack on the beach i had grown up on. we drove down as the sun was beginning to set, we walked the beach, took a few photos and smiled. the beach was much as i remembered it. i shared that this was the place i thought i would spend my entire life. i remember thinking as a late teen that i would build a life that kept me close to these waters, that would allow me to surf these waves, that would let me watch these sunsets. these were the things that i had loved the most growing up, within sight were the rocks i used to sit on when i needed to think, the first place i had written down thoughts, thoughts now lost in a book in the basement of the house i had just dropped my kids at. it was also within sight of the place i want my ashes scattered when i am gone from this world. i have pointed the place out to everyone i care about in my life, and i hope one of them remembers that this was my wish. it is the final place i want to call home, i am sure i will be happy there, i am just in no rush to move in.

we enjoyed a meal of clam chowder, fried clams and lobster rolls, a meal which brings me back to childhood, to vacations gone by and to times of happiness which are just memories now. one of the friends, the one who has the most trouble living within the culture of the US, called the meal “pure heaven”. i smiled, heaven is a place of happiness and comfort. i think this is why i thought of this place and this meal when i needed to make a suggestion, even if it was a drive that was normally to far for a simple meal.

we left dinner and after a drive around town, showing sites which were mostly dark shadows, hidden from clear view by the late evening. we started the long drive home, a quiet drive with a deep and pointed conversation of two close friends, debating points which make others uncomfortable. the drive then turned to a quiet one, where little conversation was shared and finally to a solo drive where the struggle was to stay awake and not lose myself in the jetlag driven demand for sleep.

i got to my condo, pulled into my parking spot and remembered the neighbors i had said hello to earlier in the day. the wife, who i had once borrowed a cork screw from, had smiled at me and said she, was “happy to finally meet me”. she admitted she thought i might not actually exist, she had heard that i lived half way around the world and wasn’t sure if the stories were true. i smiled at her and told her they were, being careful not to correct her that we had never met. she said, “well it must feel good to be home”.

i thought of this as i went into the condo, went to my room and found my suitcase open on the floor. there was the bed i had bought so many years ago, with the intent to sleep in it every night. i was now climbing into it for about the 17th time this year. the alarm clock was blinking the wrong time, a victim of a power outage some unknown time in the past 4 months. my bed had been unmade, my pillows thrown to one side as i was readying to leave the last time. i climbed into bed and pulled the pillows around me. i was in the quiet house i barely knew, i would be leaving in a few days. i drifted off to sleep, feeling the crushing pressure of fatigue take me into dreams. i hoped to dream of being home; i wanted to know how the dream would look.