Returning

Nearly two years later to the day, we made it through immigration and customs at O'Hare airport, returning home from China just days before Christmas for the second time. I realized it as we walked down the same corridor tonight, that it was just this time and place two years ago that we were about to introduce Gwen to her grandparents and siblings who were waiting anxiously to see her face.

This time, the feeling of returning home from China was different. Our family was together, coming off the first 6 months of a different kind of adventure than the adoption one had been. Because this time China isn't just the far away place we went to get our daughter, but rather it's our home, at least for a time. A home that we've grown familiar with at least a piece of, and that we've grown to love.

But China is still a foreign place to us in many ways, a lot because of the language barrier. One of the things I was most looking forward to about being in the US again was understanding everyone, not just a select few. At the O'Hare airport I went into a newstand to look for some contact solution, which I had forgotten to buy before we left China. I walked right in and asked for it, and the women working at the counter found it for me, just like that. I almost cried with the ease of the transaction. No fruitless hunting on my own, unable to communicate my needs. Just ask.... ahhhh.

Everywhere in the two US airports we were in tonight I could read all the signs... again, ahhh. In the airport restroom, Gwen asked me if I had tissues. "We don't need them," I answered her. "In America they have toilet paper in the bathroom for you." Ahhh, the comforts of home.

As we left the airport in our rental car, all the streets were familiar. The short way we traveled to Scott's parents' home felt like going back in time. They are streets we've driven hundreds of times, since our childhood. Are all these places still here? Even after we've gone far from them, they waited for our return.

And then we pull into the driveway, the familiar driveway. Snow covers the grass, and the Christmas tree lights shine in the front window. Inside, Nanny waits for us. There are cookies in a tin on the kitchen counter, and milk in the refrigerator waiting to be poured. It's nearly 1 a.m. local time, and we are home.