So maybe I wept when the custom's official stamped my entry card. Not just a few appropriate tears. I was weeping. He thought I was returning for a funeral. I had to assure him they were happy tears. I am here for a wedding.
I was crying so hard that I had to repeat answers to his questions. He couldn't understand me.
It was terrible.
Thankfully, I landed in Chicago. I don't know anyone in Chicago. And it's a good thing. I cried uncontrollably for an hour and a half in the airport. I haven't been on American soil in 3 years. I am glad to be home.
Then I washed my face. Changed into some jeans. And left South Asia behind for a week.
By the time I saw my sister and mom in Memphis, I was one happy girl. Thankfully the weeping had ceased.
So far I've eaten Mexican with my mom, sis and cute niece at my favorite local spot. I sang God Bless America ever so softly while eating those delicious fajitas. I talked to my sweet boys, who are in the midst of all sorts of man activities. I've gone to Hobby Lobby to browse, picked up a pomogranate Izzy from The Fresh Market, and wandered around my parent's house marveling at all that's changed, and so much that has, thankfully, stayed just the same.
I woke up at 3am to eat dinner. And my very sweet mom came downstairs to sit with me. That's love.
America, I've missed you.
It's good to be back in the motherland:)