These I didn’t question. The bawling as the plane descended. The familiarity and hominess of Eilat. The comfortableness of being with friends and acquaintances. Knowing I was home. The excitement of an available apartment and the possibility it suggested. The anxious wait to hear from may accountant. The thrill after good news that I'm able to retire and then of the apartment still being available. The joy of knowing I’m coming home.
But what is this feeling? Not sadness, but leaning toward tears. Trembling, just a little.
Planing to pack and donate and move pushes the feeling back a little, but it’s still there.
What is it?
A daydream has become real, and now its vulnerable.
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