The visit was very heart warming. The trip back to the DFW was long enough for me to feel the pains of having to say goodbye without having to say it at all.
I never did officially say good night or good bye to friends and family of the RGV. I'm pretty bad when it comes to that (tell me good morning, and I'll just say "Hello!"). The question of the week was what it felt like to be back home.
Maybe at one time I felt the RGV to be a place of rest and warmth, but only for a moment in time. In the years I've spent and minutes spent there not once did I feel the safe guards and peace that one feels at home.
I feel the same way about the DFW too. In many ways I've come to believe I won't be at rest until I have finished everything I helped start or started.
It felt good to be back in familiar shores; surrounded by wonderful and familiar faces, but I did not feel a sense of belonging. I miss all of them, each and everyone of them who I call friend or family of blood and not of.
Not often do I feel, but during that final stretch down I-35E, I felt it. Like gravity pulls on objects in flight, did my mind rationalize what emotions I masked from myself when I shut the car door for the long haul.
The separation from all those that I love.