Last week, I wrote for Expat Village on visiting home as an expat.
Our plane touched down on American soil a little over a week ago. When you haven't been in your native country for 6 months, touching actual land can feel a lot like running into your mother's arms after being chased by a drooling, sharp-toothed monster. We've now lived in Dominican Republic for 3 years and in all measures we can call this place home. We have an apartment there. We have friends there. Our children are friends with our friends' kids. Husband has a job there. And yet... coming home to New Jersey doesn't change.
On the car ride home from the airport my mother asked me if it felt strange to be home. It didn't take me long to answer. This was my response.
Great post, there is a delightful feeling in arriving home after being on the road, feeling the connections to your family and all your history in a place.
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