The Journey Home

I woke up this morning knowing it would probably be one of the longest days of my life.  That still could not keep the excitement from spreading across my face every time it had a chance.  Our first flight of the day from Dublin to Washington, D.C. was the longest of the day at 7.5 hours, not to mention U.S. customs and security beforehand.  It took us three hours to get through it all.  The flight was relatively uneventful except for the fact that I could not watch free movies because the headphone jack on my seat did not work. 

We arrived in Washington on time and had about an hour layover.  Excitement was in full as we all dusted off our phones and began texting and making phone-calls for the first time in three and a half months.  You could easily tell everyone was ready to be back in America. 

The excitement quickly faded as we learned of a couple of explosions that happened at the Boston Marathon.  As the news developed, the spirit of the airport became more and more somber.  I got up to go to the bathroom and noticed that most people waiting for their flights were glued to the television watching CNN coverage of the tragedy.  I later realized that our plane had landed in Washington, D.C.  at almost exactly the same time as the bombs detonated.  Welcome home!  To make this even more dramatic, we boarded our plane to Chicago and the screens on the plane were playing the news coverage.  I’m not going to lie; I was a little worried as our plane took off.  I was flying out of the nation’s capital with a destination of one of America’s major urban cities, Chicago.  At this point the only thing I wanted was home and my family.  We made it to Chicago safely, thank goodness!  About half of our group had another flight to Indy, but nothing could break the excitement of me going home.  I watched some of my friends reunite with loved ones and then I headed through security one last time.  I boarded the tiny airplane to Indy and immediately fell asleep.  I opened my eyes to the lights of Indianapolis as we landed.  Finally after 103 days, I had made it home safely.

It is hard to pinpoint a time in my life that I was happier than the moment I realized I was back home.  I rushed off the plane and through baggage claim only to be kept waiting for several minutes outside.  Apparently our flight got in a little early so my parents had not arrived yet.  When I finally saw my blue Jeep pull up I was relieved.  A dream-like 103 days of traveling had finally come to an end.  Nothing could have prepared me for the semester that I just lived through.  The past 2 years of saving and preparation all ended with this night, but I was not sad.  I had 10,000 photos and three-and-a-half months-worth of new experiences to share. 

To top the night off, the face of one of my best friends, Jenica, was staring at me through the back window of my car.  She surprised me and came with my parents to pick me up.  It was a great time!  Perhaps my favorite part of the night, however, was the moment I got to crawl into my own personal bed, with my room and bathroom surrounding me.  It’s hard to understand the importance of this until you have spent the last 103 days living out of two bags and a hotel room.  Oh my, what an experience!