Home for Thanksgiving

It has been a good day. I drove to Connecticut with an friend, dropped him at his home before continuing on to mine, and upon approaching the neighborhood I felt the familiarity with which a sailor recognizes the outline of his native shore after months at sea. My dad pushed me up the ramp into the house and I suddenly felt the difference between standing steadily on the wooden planks of a floating vessel and wandering through a home fastened to the earth. It was not so much the space as it was the feeling that the last time I was there, I had been a different person. This gave me hope that perhaps all of that trying to "stay put" while being tossed on the sea had actually brought me somewhere new after all.