Sometime in the afternoon on Tuesday, June 24th had ended. As planned we were left on the island for three more days to recover. The beach, good food, more beach and naps. We spent time with family member who had also planned to spend the week. Taking walks, searching for sand dollars, sitting on our little beach chairs deep in discussion not realizing the tide was coming in and being swept over by the first big wave. It was a wonderful end to a wonder week.
Friday finally came and we were faced with the long ride home. Much less stuff came home with us, beverages had been consumed, gifts had been given and decorations thrown away. Our only mistake was to think we could make the long journey home as we had made it just one week ago. We were driving through Indiana around midnight when we stopped for gas. I realized that it seem much more windy than normal for this part of the country. The talk in the gas station surrounded the tornadoes that were all around us. Should we stop? I asked. No one else seem to fell the pressure to do so. As we got back on the highway I asked ‘what does a tornado look like at night? How do you know it’s coming?’ The response convinced me that I wasn’t the only one concerned with our current situation. However, we pushed on and made it safely through the wind and the rain and the wind and more rain until we reach the Illinois border. It was 3:00 in the morning when we arrived home. Clearly we did not have the energy or the excitement we had just one week ago. The van would stay packed. We made our way down Clark Street passed Jake which had already closed and down, around the corner down Oakdale to our building. In less than a month we would be packing up a much bigger van with all our belonging and heading to the west coast this time, not for a week, not for a wedding but for life.