Coming Home

Mural in the lounge outside the Union’s Rathskeller

Clare called me on the phone and immediately asked, “Dad, are you still at home?”

“No,” I replied, “I’m at the Union.” Clare knows that, for me, there is only one union, and it is Memorial Union on the University of Wisconsin campus. There was no reason for me to be more specific when I told her where I was.

“Oh,” she said, “we missed the nine o’clock bus.”

After four months in Asia, Manyu was finally coming home. Clare and Clare’s boyfriend, Chase, had joined her in Taiwan for the last part of her trip, and now all three of them were coming back to the States on the same flight. The plan was for them to fly into O’Hare and then take the 9pm bus to Madison. They’d arrived at the airport with what should have been enough time to catch the bus, but then got hung up in customs. Fortunately the nine o’clock bus to Madison is not the last one of the day, and they’d just get in later than they’d hoped. Manyu thinks that I hate flying. I don’t. I hate airports.

Clare and Chase live in Madison, and their apartment, even when pulling suitcases and carrying duffels, is within walking distance of the bus stop. I was supposed to drive to Madison, meet them at the bus stop, visit with Clare and Chase long enough to hear about the highlights of their trip, and then return to La Crosse that night. Now that they had to catch a later bus and not get to Madison until after one in the morning, I’d be in no condition to drive for two and a half hours. Manyu and I’d be crashing on the living room floor of Clare’s apartment, which was something I’d never done before.

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Manyu and I made it to La Crosse the following day, and this morning I am writing this blog from my normal writing spot at home. Last night Manyu slept in her own bed for the first time since November. It was a restless sleep as she is very much jet lagged.

Now she and I enter our annual honeymoon phase. For about a month after Manyu’s return, I will ignore her annoying quirks, and for almost the same amount of time, she will ignore mine. Already she’s pointed out that my definition of a clean house differs from hers, but over the years that criticism has become more of a joke than a point of contention. Today I expect her to clean the kitchen and, if she has the time and the energy, the bathrooms.

Manyu’s honeymoon is not only with me, but also with the city of La Crosse. For an unspecified period of time, she will enjoy, even relish, the peacefulness of a small city and the fact that everything we need is within a ten-minute drive. Eventually the peace and quiet will lead to boredom, and then we will get back to our ongoing discussion about moving to Asia. Until then, I live in the moment.