Why is it so hard to come home?

2842_74450264268_3469070_nWe have been safely back from our trip for five days now and I’m slowly coming out of my jet lag fog. When I hear other travelers say, “I can’t wait to get home” and “It was a great vacation but there’s no place like home, ” I wonder what’s wrong with me. I love traveling and I always wish it could go on forever. Could it be that “home” isn’t a peaceful enough haven to draw me back?

I realize that the root of my problem is a psychological block heralding back to my Eastern Europe days when each return trip meant taking care of another disaster – alone. Whether it was burst water pipes or an electrical short or a robbery, I came to dread what I would find when I opened my front door. I know I have Steve to help deal with things now, but I can’t shake my anxieties. This trip, my fears were rational. Recently, a single woman friend nearby had her electronics and jewelry stolen – stirring up memories of my Russian Mafia hit in Budapest. Then, my landlady told her construction workers that we’d be out of the country for a couple weeks. She may as well have hung a neon sign on our apartment, “Vacancy. Burglars Welcome.” I tried my best to block this out of my mind on vacation, and usually succeeded, but couldn’t erase it entirely.

Praise God, we were not robbed. However, the headache-inducing construction work will continue for several more months. I am so looking forward to the day, not far off now, when Steve and I will make our own nest in our new town. We’ll be the ones to decide when, or if, construction work happens (and believe me, it is a very unlikely “if.”) Hopefully, I will look forward to coming home to our new home, but one thing is certain. I’ll always love traveling. 🙂

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