I looked out the window making our approach into Lewiston. The hills were the same dry-brown they were last summer before I left. It figured in my heart that it couldn't have been more than a week since I'd left. Over the Clarkston Heights and I could see the Snake River wading through the middle of the city, and then the Horizon Airlines Bombardier double prop stumbled onto the run way.
Walking from the plane to the one-room airport, I couldn't see through the tinted windows. I expected my parents to be waiting for me, but as I walked through the door I was surprised by my niece who jumped me. Then I heard a loud sound like a swarm of bees –– kazoos. The family had come in full force to welcome me with signs, songs, smiles and hugs.
It made me feel like a conquering hero returning from the field, not because I felt like I'd fought anything in Asia, and I definitely hadn't conquered anything, but I felt accomplished just having such a fun and loving group of people in my family.