It's not because I don't want to go home. I love my contemplative, quiet, peaceful, rich life.
Here's what makes the coming home transition difficult for me: An internal driven-ness that pushes me to get everything back to normal ASAP and (I am beginning to discover) unrecognized grief.
The driven-ness forces me to sort the mail, pay the bills, unpack and de-sand the suitcases, launder the clothes, and then put them away.
I am beginning to speculate that all the pressure I put on myself to accomplish tasks when arriving home is not entirely my perfectionism at work. The tears that well up in my eyes when I wonder what else is driving me, feel like tears of grief.
To remember the connection shared with adult children and the bonding that took place with precious grandchildren while at the same time remembering how long it will be until we see each other again is a difficult emotional place. Who wouldn't rather work themselves to exhaustion?
Let me know how you handle transitions. Is there a component of grief for you?
Thanks for exploring the mystery - Nicky Mendenhall
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