After months of living the dream in Madrid, of becoming one with the culture and the city, of creating completely new routines in a new language with new people and immersing himself in it, Codie has come home.

A remarkable number of things can happen in 150+ consecutive unsupervised days - multiple celebrations of major life events, health scares conquered, loved ones battling tragedy, hurricanes and their upheaval, emotional voyages embarked upon, physical challenges met, and epic tales spun.

Not a day has passed since Codie left when I wasn’t infinitely proud of him for knowing what he wanted, for dropping the American dream flat on it’s ass like a skank the morning after with no apologies, and running through the wide open space of the doorway to his future and to the unknown world beyond.

When I set out to claim a hug from him this morning at Java Vino I knew not to expect to find the same man I said good-bye to in June. As I learn who he is again, I fully expect him to be a new man. A mixed bag of emotional goods with a heavy load of “my world is upside down…was that English?” on top. Our most significant bond could very well be our mutual emotional intensity. Empathizing about the alternate future he’ll have abandoned in its youth, on arriving home I foresee a launch into a wake of our own interpretation with the bottle of McAllen 12 he bought last Christmas and we never opened.

You say you wish you could pick up and go, you say a lot of things you want but won’t chase. Why don’t you? You can make it happen. I promise. Do it, and do it now, because the truth is that tomorrow might not be here when you’re finally ready for it.

Me? I expect one evening soon I’ll find myself reveling in lost time having being found, sitting like a child on my hands/ Indian style, leaning forward with wide eyes watching his every gesture as he spins a kaleidoscope of colorful stories (as only he can) and well on my way to exiting my hug deficit.

Kissy boo, babies, I wish you equally brilliant reunions.