as i move through

This was my first international flight - the first time that I was moving away from home for the long haul.   When I saw the morning sun that day, the hills, the cloudy sky, the Kathmandu skyline that I am so familiar with, I wept. I thought of Baa, Aama and dai. I thought of my beautiful dogs who I miss so much (I have smiled at every dog I have passed by here and called them a sweetheart). As the day began, I felt rushed - weirdly, all my bags had been packed a while back. I just felt like I had a lot to do, lists of mental checklists to go through. The rush was real. But it didn't "hit" me at the airport like they said it would. It didn't hit me when I sat down for lunch that morning - a full plate of mam, dal and tarkari that Aama made for us. It didn't hit me when I sat with my dogs and held them close to whisper to them to be gentle and sit tight, nice and warm at home. It didn't hit me when family started coming in at home to see me off. At the airport,

Little notes from Sept 1-16. The past two weeks at home, I have chewed on my lips and held my breathe to hold back tears. I have used onions as an excuse in the kitchen while preparing lunch for my family. I have crossed my fingers in my pockets, blinked my eyes fast enough to hide tears while on shopping trips. The last few days I had friends and family over at my home and I closed off all thoughts and stayed in the moment with them. I wanted to commit those moments to memory and let them settle in. Times with them made me realize how grateful I am to have people I connect with, can bicker with. Thank you for making time for me despite it all. I love you. PART I: Five meltdowns and 16 crying sessions later.  And now to Kathmandu, For every time that I held my Baa's hand and walked around everywhere in Kathmandu, I have earned memories with him. Sometimes his nerves would get the jitters and he'd clench his hand so hard my fingers would turn white. I'd always complain and t