Fair Haired Traveller

My world traveler came home a few weeks ago.

We piled all the dogs in the truck and drove to the airport on Saturday night to pick her up. 

We had record rainfall that day so the sky was stormy and spectacular.

Sissa looked so... Indian, when we saw her. Like she had absorbed the culture into her very being. 

I admire that about her - how she fully embraces the places she goes so that when she leaves she takes the essence of the place with her. She lets the experience change her and be part of who she is. 

That's the way to travel.

Have hula hoop, will travel...

After four month in India, she said it was weird getting used to western culture again.

When we got home, she went straight to the bathroom and after a minute or two  yelled, "It's so nice to have toilet paper again!" through the door.

Okay, so maybe not all foreign customs should be embraced.

There's my travelling girl!

I couldn't wait to hear her stories and see the pictures of her adventures. We sat out on the patio, under my twinkly lights, and while the rain pelted on the roof she told me her tales.

It made my heart happy to watch her face as she talked, to see the happiness in her eyes and hear the awe in her voice as she recalled her memories.

I was glad to have her back safe, but I was so happy she had these experiences to tell.

I could see I would be saying goodbye to her many more times if God or fate is willing. Her travelling days have only begun.

Arranged marriages, a caste system, extreme poverty, but despite it all, a resigned contentment - that's the gist of what goes on in India. Or at least the areas she visited.

That and cute jewelry for very, very cheap.

She brought me a bracelet made from the seeds of the Rudraksha tree. The seeds are also called Shiva's tears, because the story goes that the god, Shiva, began to cry unexpectedly while contemplating the world's suffering. He turned his tears to seeds as they fell to the earth so that they could offer protection, peace, and power over suffering to those that held them.

All I know is that it makes me smile when I look at it on my wrist, and that's enough for me.

I'm glad she's back. I like the energy in the house when she's here. I like laying in bed and hearing her strum her ukelele on the patio outside my window. I like hearing her in the kitchen, making her vegan food. I like her joy.

I'll leave you with this song Sissa introduced to me, and the reason for my post title. A special friend she met in India shared it with her and when I heard it, I loved it from the first note. I get teary-eyed every time I listen to it.



One Month Later...

I started this post a few days after Sissa came home. That was a month ago. Now that I've expressed the warm fuzzies of her homecoming, and she's been home a while, my next post is going to be "How you Know your Daughter is Home Again."

First on the list will be missing makeup.

Belatedly,
Lori