Fly, fly away home…

Until next time, San Francisco.

Take good care of my father, Kaiser Permanente.

Take good care of our mother, sister.

Do I feel guilty for leaving?

Do I feel guilty for flying home when the situation is still tenuous?


But there are time sensitive things at home for me.

My husband was unable to get the time off of work and so has been batching it for 5 days, 4 nights.

His birthday is in three days.

There is major work to begin on our house on Sunday.

There is a job offer in the wings for me, if I had the mental space to call the recruiter back.

There is a new job title waiting for me.

There are several articles and books to be written.

There is sleep to be in had, in my own bed, with my own pillows.

There is work to be done.

And I am, if nothing else, a worker.

And, apparently the cats have been searching for me.

All of which leads me to be onboard the long flight home to the American South, part of me still wanting to stay indefinitely in San Francisco, even though I know that is not tenable.

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