Home is never too far away

Leaving isn't a difficult thing to do. In the end it's really just walking out the door. The thought of leaving, now that is a different thing. Thursday morning this week, after weeks and months of planning, talking and general preparation, I just picked up my bag and walked out the door. Not so difficult. 

My family took me to the airport and after what can only be described as an emotional goodbye, I quickly slipped behind the wall and into the queue at security. This was the difficult part, I have to admit. Although, emotional as it was, my dad and my brother both called within a half hour to give out to me about two different things. That's family for you. 

What was much more amusing was saying goodbye to my gran. 80 years old and I swear she's going to outlive us all. I went in to have a cup of tea with her before I left. I gave her a hug and said I more than likely wouldn't be home for Xmas. You know what she says back? 'Oh but will himself still be able to visit? I loves that chap you know. I loves him like I loves my two grandsons.' Knowing my gran as I do and reading in between the lines, this roughly equates to her loving himself more than me. Thanks Gran. 

24 hours later I'm sitting in my hostel in Singapore waiting for an old school friend to pick me up for dinner. In the meantime I've texted my brother John, Skyped with my dad and Facebooked my little bro. 7 time zones ahead and we know each others every move. Never too far away from home. 

Home is no holiday, it's heaven.

I've been home for two weeks now. Two weeks since I left himself in Munich. It's flown by. I was supposed to leave for Singapore last Thursday but felt so strange leaving home so soon. It doesn't affect my overall plan for the next few months. So, feck it, why not? An extra week with the family and the two dogs is just what the doctor ordered. I've done loads of nice family things. Nothing terribly interesting but all so satisfying. Mostly just stuff like helping my little brother move up to college for his first year, go test drive electric cars with my dad (that he has no intention of ever buying) and helping my ma to pack for her own holiday. I also drank way too much tea, brought the dogs for many a walk and got to listen to how my great Aunt was chatted up by a youthful 75 year old on the beach this year when she was on hold with my gran in Tramore, Co. Waterford. Apparently, some glistening pensioner came up to her on the beach in nothing but a towel and insisted she take his number. My gran was jealous out the door; going on and on about it being 'indecent'. But I nearly choked when my great aunt said "we'll, at least I know upfront I'm not buying a pig in a blanket'. My gran was raging. 

Anyway, it's the last few days now at home, in the middle of absolutely nowhere and even though I decided to stay an extra week it doesn't feel enough somehow. 

It's never fecking easy, is it?

Maybe when I get back I'll spend a bit longer at home in the wilds of Wexico either walking the dogs or test driving the latest electric car on the market. 

I'm looking forward to it already.