Shepherd’s Hill cemetery

On the Saturday we did laundry. I needed some fresh clothes for the way home and to get through this day.

My hosts’ daughter came home for a few days from her group home. She wanted to go along to the airport on Sunday to make sure I got on the right flight. What she didn’t remember was that they couldn’t go that far into the airport to see the plane, but I think she wanted to spend more time at home while I was there too. It was good to see Jenn.

Once we’d done laundry, we headed out the winding river road to Riverport to see David at his place. Riverport was the location of my  hosts’ first home when they moved there from Ontario.

Another photo of the lookout spot

On the way, quite close to our destination, we turned onto a roadway that took us up to Shepherd’s Hill and the cemetery that was there. It’s a great look out.

We wandered around the cemetery and found stones for family members and friends who are buried there. Such a peaceful spot.

When we arrived at David’s home, we visited awhile, then he gave me a tour of the home he shared with his partner. I saw both that home and the guest home across the road that had been his and Maryann’s parents’ home. Totally renovated and tastefully done.

Back in Bridgewater, I got the last of my clothing from the laundry and had my suitcase mostly packed because we’d be heading out early the next morning for the Halifax airport. I’d be returning home on Sunday.

***

I slept well that night and put my last items in the suitcase and carry-on bag that my friend Terry back home had loaned me.

Unfortunately Jenn wasn’t feeling so great so she stayed in Bridgewater while my hosts drove me to the airport. I said my goodbyes to her and off we went.

We stopped for breakfast at Tim Hortons in Bridgewater. It would be a long while until my next meal. And they needed breakfast and first coffee of the day.

It was a fairly quiet ride to the airport. I was ready for home but not for the goodbye hugs, as it turned out. With the hugs came the reminder, and I didn’t get it right away, that I was on my own again. A quiet but impressive nod to grief once more. Holidays had been good, being with other people, with busy times and moments of quiet and rest too.

That feeling stayed with me as I asked someone in uniform to help me check in my bags. I had my boarding pass ready on my phone. My daughter had helped me with that on Saturday morning, thankfully. The gentleman, who may have been a pilot, waited until I had all I needed. I was so grateful for the help. Tears were not far off, but I managed to check my suitcase and head to security. Once that process was done, I was able to relax a bit.

I texted my hosts who would be on their way back home to let them know I had been through security and now waited for my flight.

When I found my gate I sat for a bit. I sent a message to Janet, fellow writer from Nova Scotia. Thinking we could have a short conversation to fill the waiting time. It was not to be, so I looked at a couple of shops, bought a treat to share with my daughter who’d be picking me up in Hamilton. Also bought a Nova Scotia tag for my keys, one other thing I had been thinking of when we shopped. I found the right one here and attached it to my key ring.

The flight seemed to go fast. Again I had a window seat. The sky was clear and the flight was smooth. I worked on my Word Search book awhile and then read more of my  friend’s first book. I took a few photos out the window and watched homes go by in Hamilton.

Hamilton from the air

After landing, while waiting for my baggage, I noticed an email from Janet, my Nova Scotia friend. She wondered if I was still in her province. Unfortunately not, but I texted her back. We continued our conversation on my way home.

I also discovered I was without one earring. When I lifted my bag over my shoulder, I must have flicked off the front earring part because all I had was the backing. Couldn’t really go back on the plane to look for a small stud, so I let it be.

My eldest daughter texted that she had arrived and I texted to let her know I was at the arrivals door. Because it’s a smaller airport, we connected easily.

On the way home we got a bite to eat. I shared my chocolate treat with her and we chatted on the way home about photos, holidays and more.

It had been an refreshing holiday. My family back home had helped me with the process,—booking the flight, taking care of baggage and boarding passes, the rides to and from airport and taking care of home. It was good to be home.

I knew that my garden would be needing my attention, but it could wait for Monday. I texted my hosts one more time, thanking them for putting me up and taking me places, and letting them know I was home safely.

Thanks for the holiday to all who made it possible.