Homecoming

It seemed natural that upon landing in American territory, I should be greeted with the sweet smell of warm and sticky cinnamon pastry. I felt the French of my environment dissipate and replaced by the American.

I was disappointed that Luis Muñoz Marín Airport was outdated and worn. There were low ceilings and cracked 'leather' seats. Not far from my gate I purchased a sad looking hot dog and ate it sitting next to passengers wearing thick winter coats. My light trench coat seemed defiant...and delusional.

As the second plane flew through endless white, my thoughts sat quietly, no longer troubled by the tearful goodbye, not yet excited by the anticipated reunion. Encapsulated by cabin pressure.

We landed early. The world seemed immediately larger. Yes, I was still on an island, but one with the proportions of a entire continent. Even when crowded with other passengers there was vastness. Not just of space, but of possibilities.

When my sister S. found me at the carousel, she cried, like she usually does. But this time I cried too. She presented me a with a winter coat, a scarf, a furry hat and a small sandwich from Wholefoods. I had been wondering about cheddar cheese lately.

It was cold, of course, when I finally stepped outside. But not any colder than I expected. What surprised me was the sun. A winter sun gives off such crisp white light. The light met the hard lines of buildings, lampposts and roads. As we road the Q10, the sun set quickly behind greenless trees.

Its good to be home.