Being back in Peru comes with an onslaught of memories, emotions, hopes, and dreams. . . .  Upon arrival my father-in-law said "Welcome Home," and in a very real sense that's exactly what it was, a homecoming.  This morning when Cohen and I went to the tienda to get some bacon for breakfast the owner asked where I'd been, how I was, and shared with me that her daughter had moved to Colorado recently.  I expect this to be the first of many more similar experiences. 

It's nice to know that I left something behind, that I am remembered.  Too often success is determined according to how much we earn, how high on the corporate ladder we climb, or the length and magnificence of our title.  Well, I haven't earned much, I'm still relatively low on the ladder, and I don't have a title, but people know who I am, people remember me just as I remember them, and for that I am grateful, for that I feel as though I have succeeded. 

This trip to Peru is bittersweet- returning home, seeing my family all the while knowing I will leave again in just a few days.  If being apart from my family for 2 ½ months has been difficult leaving them again will be close to impossible.  Though I only arrived yesterday after 36 hours of travel I almost feel guilty for sleeping, needing to get in as much time with everyone and everything as I can.  Still, it won't be enough. .

On the street last night Kayla and I saw a friend, proof of just how small this city of 1 million really is.  Earlier in a market I’ve shopped in only a handful of times during my time here I was recognized by a store owner, much to the surprise of Kayla.  When I noticed the view of the cathedral against the sunset yesterday I was compelled to photograph and video it despite the familiarity of the scene, one I have been witness to many times.

My life in California, away from my family and in the real world, has seemed like a dream, like make-believe.  Many days I feel as though I shouldn’t be making any memories, even while visiting Fisherman’s Wharf or attending a San Jose Sharks hockey game, not because I am alone but because alone I am incomplete, because alone it isn’t genuine. 

Time working is no different, and without my family to share it with it doesn’t seem real.  As Kayla and I walked the streets of downtown Arequipa last night it was as though I had awoken from a dream, the familiarity of my surroundings awakening my inner self allowing me to realize what had been taking place the last few months of my life.  Also more apparent was that which is taking placing every day and more of what the future holds. 

A visitor in my own home, welcome, familiar, and loved, but a visitor none the less.  My familiarity, my place with my family, has been overshadowed by new routines, different schedules, and the knowledge that I am only here for a few days.  I can’t guess when my we will be reunited, and on that I’d rather not place a wager. 

Kayla is optimistic, believing we will be apart only a month or two more. . .I wish I were so optimistic and yet her belief gives me strength to continue in this journey.  It is our differences that keep us alive and our likenesses that keep us together- strange how that works. 

The presiding judge in our adoption case said I need be in Arequipa only one day.  As we were dealing with the Peruvian legal system I never believed it would be so easy and, sure enough, Kayla and I had appointments each day the following week meaning most of our time was occupied with legalities and formalities.  None the less we were together though still short my two boys.  The dual-country/triple-state living condition isn’t as easy as we led ourselves to believe. 

This trip was a blessing filled with its share of curses.  The joy with which my heart was filled being able to visit my family and friends will remain unsurpassed, perhaps forever. 

As more and more people got wind of my return to Peru requests started coming in for a little face time- as if I were the Godfather and my daughter was getting married. . . .Rather than accommodate each individual request I decided to invite several people to the house for dinner Tuesday night. 

It sounded like a good idea until I counted the potential number of people that might find their way to my abode- upwards of 30.  It turned out to be more like 25 and went very well.  I grilled and baked the meat, and also made the choklo (Peruvian corn) while Sharon did more than her part by preparing the salads and potatoes.  I couldn’t have pulled it off without her!!

On the flip side the starter on our van went out while I was here, my lawyer wanted money every time I saw him (what lawyer doesn’t, but still. . .), and my day of return (which has only just begun) really capped it off.

Around 4:45 this morning I began hunting the streets for a taxi to take me to the airport.  I found one a few blocks away and he took me back to the house to get my suitcases.  After we loaded everything up and were ready to set off the taxi wouldn’t start. 

It was at then I asked God if I should just go back inside, get back into bed and forget the whole thing.  After all, I was leaving my family again, in the dark, still asleep, saying goodbye only in their dreams. 

Once the driver decided his taxi wasn’t going to start he jumped out and began to push, and I followed suit, realizing he intended to roll-start what barely qualifies as a car- they’re more like a Matchbox on steroids- and again we were under way.

I arrived at the airport in plenty of time, checked-in and headed to the line to pay my airport tax.  Before I could get in line the woman who checked me in found me and asked me to return to the counter.  It seemed her supervisor had noticed the size of my carry-on and decided it was too big, too heavy, too whatever.

I explained that it couldn’t be checked as it contained my laptop, cameras, and other fragile possessions.  We then weighed it and sure enough it was double the allowable weight.  I then explained to the supervisor I had a connecting international flight in the afternoon and thus I was afforded greater allowances.  She agreed that on the int’l flight this wouldn’t be an issue but that on the domestic portion it was.

I asked her several times how anyone flying internationally but taking a domestic flight en-route would be able to take their things.  After asking her to explain this to me three times she said she didn’t understand the question. . . .I decided I would do my best to accommodate her. 

I took my laptop out, which was in separate bag, along with my cameras, a bottle of water and a leather notebook/portfolio.  I returned to the desk, weighed my bag again and suddenly it was okay, being only .8 kilos overweight.  I thought they were going to check it anyway, which is why I took out my valuables, but instead they let me carry everything on and even provided me with a plastic airline bag to put my loose items in.  What this ended up meaning was that I had three bags to carry on instead of one.  Viva Peru!!

Now sitting at Starbucks in Lima my day continues to drag on.  I find so much joy in my life, in being in Peru, in heading home to San Francisco (did I just call San Francisco home?), and yet I struggle.  Am I doing what is right, what I should be? 

I believe so.  I believe I am.  I also believe that these struggles are God’s way of saying “Look how much you can handle!!  What have you got to be afraid of?”  And that makes sense.  After all, Kayla and I have been scared at different times during our lives, together and apart, but suddenly it seems we have become capable. 

Sure, there’s still a long way to go, but then, why stop.  Life is about moving forward, moving on, making the best of everything and not accepting things as they are.  For every trial we face, for every down time Kayla and I go through, for every challenge that presents itself or that we invite we need two hands to count the blessings God has given us. 

That’s what life is all about.  Being blessed and knowing it; doing the right thing because it’s the right thing to do; living and growing through the hard times. 

I’m home, or back in San Francisco, (whichever it is) and preparing myself to head back to the real world, or the dream world.  When I figure it out I’ll let you know. 

It’s as hard as it’s supposed to be- being away from your family.  If being apart from them didn’t make you want to collapse from the pain then there would be something wrong.

I walked around Best Buy today for no reason looking at things I didn’t want, reading specs on products made by manufacturers I don’t believe in just to avoid thinking about being separate from my family.  Some days are like that.  But then, what can you do? 

I bought a fish tank, just a little desktop adornment.  Not exactly a replacement, just a little something to occupy me.  The love I have for my wife and family cannot be replaced, cannot be exchanged, cannot be anything but what it is- true love.