I guess the hardest part of believing I was “going home” was that I had felt at home before I left Japan. The tatami room where I slept, the sushi I helped prepare every night, and the laughter my host family and I had shared were home to me. A home is where you love and where you are loved.
Again I closed my eyes. My mind drifted back to how much longer May second was going to last, and I was glad. Maybe the time zones were going to work in my favor for once, giving me more time to soak up everything that is Japan. A longer day to reflect on the longstanding influence that trip will have on the rest of my life.
