Returning Children

Last night our youngest son, Alban, returned from a three month Transasia excursion. I believe he was happy to be home but I suspect that his return was a larger event for me than for him. I always feel that the first 6 hours or so after a child returns are the most precious. The ride home from the airport and the first meal together are the times when memories are most readily shared, before they are diluted by the next day's responsibilities and while the contrasts between what one has just experienced and what one is coming back to are most vivid.

He talked about food, taxi drivers, and loneliness on the central Asian steppes. He recounted conversations on trains and shared insights about himself gathered from traveling with one other person across nine time zones.

When our children were small we were often counseled by older parents to enjoy the present because it is over so soon. I didn't anticipate how much joy I would experience when my children became adults.