Taking Shelter

It's a clear day in Washington DC. Cold. The plane lifts off the ground; it's an old Alaskan Airlines craft, no TV, but lots of leg room. Two windows by my side. I keep the shades open so the sunlight spills all over me.

5 hours and 18 minutes and I'll be in Los Angeles, the city I lived in for ten years.

"Are you coming home or flying in for a visit?" the stewardess wants to know.

Her question stirs up thoughts that have consumed me since my husband and I moved away almost 18 months ago. Will we ever come back? When? How?

I don't know when. Or how. Who knows what the circumstances will be that'll allow us to return to the west, but I've made a peace with not knowing. So I look to the stewardess and smile.

"Both," I say.

~ ~ ~

I'm taking shelter for awhile, trying to finish a writing project I started out here a couple years ago as well as keep up with some additional articles and assignments. I'll see ya when I emerge . . .