Welcome Home

Welcome home are nice words to hear.

I can't believe it's already been almost a week. And I can't believe it's been only a week. I'm at the five days home mark, and definitely one of those "weird" RMs. This afternoon was my first time driving and my first time alone as I went in for my dentist appointment. An anxious experience, let me assure you.

My stomach is still not recovered from whatever number the DR did on it. I wonder when my digestive system will go back to normal. And now that I'm home, all the foods I craved a week ago don't hold the same appeal. Now that it's all so available, I find I don't care about it. Instead of finding all my favorite treats in the grocery store, I searched out the platanos (plantains), yucca, and batata (sweet potato). I settled on a sad-looking platano for an outrageous price, but it will be worth it to eat fritos again!

The flight home was LONG. I cried when the wheels lifted off from DR pavement. I cried when I looked down at my nametag and thought of how soon it would be gone from its usual spot over my heart. I just cried a lot. I didn't know what to do with several hours left when I had already read 13 chapters of the Book of Mormon and caught up in my journal. I was avoiding the tv screen with Spiderman 2 playing, and my neighbors were all avoiding eye contact with me. Sigh. It felt like a long time. And yet, I was a bundle of nerves at seeing my family again. I was so nervous. When I finally made it, (you guessed it) I cried again. My dad grabbed me into a hug which scared me to death. (Dad or not, the first male hug was traumatizing.) My mind was still stuck on the airplane, and my heart still somewhere in Santo Domingo.

But I'm slowly catching up to myself. I keep hitting little milestones. My first time out of the house. My homecoming talk (I spoke about hope.) My first social activity (boating at Bear Lake). Getting my school schedule figured out. Etc.

And so the road to recovery continues. Hopefully every day I'll cry less and less as I find some kind of routine to this crazy post-mission life.

--Sarah Peck