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Journey's end.

Written on: Monday September 7th, 2009

The final leg of this improbable trip was upon me...it was time to return to Minneapolis.  Mom and a friend offered to drive me to Mauston (roughly half way), where I would be met by my ex-girlfriend, Liz, who would take me the rest of the way. 

Unanswered questions danced through my head as we started West on Highway 23.  What will it be like returning to the city I've called home for fifteen years? How will things be with Liz?  What the hell am I going to DO when I get there?  These and a dozen more thoughts held my attention for the 150 minute drive to the rendezvous point.

Upon arrival we dined while waiting for Liz to show up.  It was a chance to channel my thoughts and share goodbyes with my wonderful mother.  Alas Liz's Jeep Wrangler turned into the Road Pilot.  Meeting her in the parking lot, a long, friendly hug was shared before getting into the final transport of my trip.

Both the ride and conversation went smoothly as we shared events that occurred over the past fouteen months since we had last seen each other.  It was a comfortable, stress-free reunion.

Soon we pulled in front of 5746 Grand Ave S.  There it is...my 'home'.  Walking through the front door filled me with a far away, contemplative mindset.  My house is modest, actually quite small by American standards.  But when I entered the living room on this day, my initial thought was how spacious it actually looked.  I reflected back upon some of the cramped places I had stayed during the trip: there was the 8'x10' beach shack in Tofo, Mozambique, the numerous, cramped, overnight train and sleeper bus beds throughout southeast Asia, the never-ending string of shared hostels and of course the 2'x7' space I occupied on the Moet.  Understanding that everything is life is relative, I strolled through my home with a newly found respect for its size and modern amenities.

Revisiting my newly reclaimed personal space, most everything seemed to be in order.  The lawn was cut, the air conditioners worked and at least one of the former fouteen plants in the house was still alive.

Having at the moment no phone or car, Liz drove me to Kowalski's for a grocery run.  It was amazing! Just about anything I wanted to eat or drink was available, fresh and safe, there for my purchase.  This truly was a far cry from some of my experiences in the more remote corners of the world.

Staples placed safely in my refridgerator, Liz said farewell.  I was now home.  Home to reconnect with all the nuances of my house.  Home to reconnect with all my friends.  And home to start thinking about what the next stage in life will bring.