A month later...

In two days I will have been home for a month.  I can’t believe it’s been that long.  I can’t believe it’s only been that long.  Just yesterday I was frantically trying to fit everything I needed into two bags for Africa.  A decade ago I closed my flat door in Dunedin for the last time.  Today I’m no closer to coming to terms with my emotions than I was the day I landed in Colorado.

Unlike most people who take off for a year and need a week or so of down time to recuperate, I jumped right back into the swing of things.  My plane (finally) landed on Father’s Day and after an embarrassing but nice pick up from my mom, the boys, Chelsea, (and what was Moses doing there?), we drove directly up to Evergreen where I got to sit next to my dad and drink a cold Blue Moon while cheering my step sisters on in the Evergreen Rodeo.  Not a bad way to spend my first day back.  The next day I moved into the new house Chelsea had found for us (bless her heart and hard work).  The day after that I was back at work playing with bugs. 

It seems like I had never left.  And it’s true.  Little has changed.  Carol’s kids and Garrett have gotten taller.  Connor could pass as Mexican with his landscaper’s tan.  My dad’s bald spot has widened.  My mom won’t stop hugging me.  But all in all, the people are still the same people.  Then there’s me.  I feel like I went to sleep, had a dream that literally, and I mean LITERALLY changed me, and woke up to find that it was just that- a dream.  When talking about my trip to people I feel like I’m lying.  It didn’t really happen.  My stories are too outlandish for them to believe.  I start to question myself.  I don’t want to talk about it.  That offends people. 

I find myself being offended.  I’ve had a very emotionally and mentally taxing year.  I’ve learned a lot about myself through a lot of self-reflection and self-revealing events.  I’ve changed, but they don’t see that.  They have this mold of the Jenny that was and I don’t fit that anymore.  I don’t want to twist and shove myself into the shape they have for me.  I want them to see me. 

It’s not only been hard on me but the people around me.  Chelsea tells me that my leaving was for her like going through the seven emotional stages of death:  first she was in shock, then denial, then she wanted to bargain with me (remember how she asked me to come home for Christmas?), then she felt guilty because she couldn’t make it out to see me, then she was angry at me for leaving, then she was depressed, and then once she’d finally accepted that I was gone, here I come trouncing back into her life.  She had to get used to me again, the new “me.”  There are things that she, as my best friend, still needs to get used to.  I understand that and give her her space.  And it’s getting better.  The first week I was home I could tell it really stressed her out, but now were getting to know one another again and loving it.  No one can turn my mood around 180 degrees like she can. 

As for everyone else, it’s great to see them all.  I’m not going to lie, it was extremely stressful trying to get everyone in and still a month later there are special people I haven’t seen, but, even though I’m not angry at them, I think that’s their fault.  I had three big events that I invited people to just so that I could get all my “hellos” and story telling in in one big go.  I can’t afford special treatment for those that didn’t make it- it takes a lot of time and energy to sit with even just five different people for an hour and a half each over a meal saying the exact same thing.  Trust me.  It’s not worth it.  I had a year away from them and a little more time until I can work them into my already hectic schedule isn’t gonna kill anybody.

And I love that it’s hectic.  It was nice to live the relaxed life style in the South Pacific, but now I feel like I’m a valuable member of society again.  Since coming home I’ve started my first ever garden (I noticed my first pepper growing this week), I’ve gotten back into painting, I’ve finished one summer class and started another, I’ve completed almost two bouts of field work, taken on a nanny position, gotten to go horseback riding, hiking, swimming, dancing, biking, and learned to roll a kayak.  I’ve taken on a new foster dog and even had a few spare moments for some summer romance.  And I still have a month and a half of summer to go.

Dang, it feels good to be home.  There is really no place in the world I’ve seen that is as good as Colorado.  Just being in this state makes me a happier person.  Don’t get me wrong, I miss the friends I made abroad and the vagabond lifestyle, but this is my permanent place.  More traveling is in my future but I know that I will always have to come back here to recharge my energy stores (kind of an oxymoron if you consider how much energy I put into my life here).  If I learned anything while I was abroad it is that that crazy Dorothy with her little dog Todo was telling the truth:  “There is no place like home.”

Speaking of little dogs, this is my new one.  Isn't she cute?

Seriously, this is a normal sleeping pose for her.