It's been a long, long time. I'm sitting in my apartment in Israel, completely alone for the first time in three months, and feeling almost beside myself. My parents and Anne both left early this morning, so I feel that extra loneliness that comes with sitting in an empty apartment that was only hours ago overflowing.
I did have two extra days with them, however. My grandfather's flight had just made it out, and my parents were waiting to go through security at the airport, when the municipal workers of Israel announced that they were on strike, and that most government offices would be closed indefinitely, including the ports and airports. So my parents took a taxi back home, and we waited it out for two days until they could make it on a flight. It was a wonderful two days, if not a bit stressful.
Soon I'll put up some pictures from our whirlwind tour--a week in Italy and a week in Israel--of which I am told there are almost three hundred in my dad's digital camera. Maybe then I'll have more energy, not being so sad as I am now, and can write all about it as well.
It's good to be home.