Transitioning to Normal

The ticket counter line was back to normal

It had been 502 days since my last trip to the Islands.

Except for the COVID-19 test that had to be taken less than 72 hours--and the results received--before departure, the uploading of the results to the Hawaii travel site, the transmission of a QR code from Hawaii that verified the receipt and permitted the visitor to disembark, it was a typical trip.

(Also, I had to bring the vaccination card that was required for entrance to some facilities.)

Going up to the departure counter, I was handed an orange wristband that obviated the need to show the QR code in Honolulu.

Although it seemed to your humble blogger that the wristband provided little security--I've seen wristbands for meals that were harder to duplicate--I had been so bemused by all the shifting requirements that I just went with the flow as did everyone else. ("Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die.")

The flight was uneventful, as was picking up the baggage and getting a ride from my brother to the family homestead. I had the place to myself, along with more furniture, supplies, equipment, boxes, and clothes from Mom's move last July when she changed assisted living facilities.

But I didn't mind the clutter. It reminded me of my childhood, when seven people lived here.

I was grateful that our extended family, unlike others that I knew, had made it through the pandemic unscathed.

Although I often rationalize not going to Sunday services while "on vacation", I went to the church where I was baptized during the Eisenhower Administration. The Senior Warden greeted me--we went to kindergarten Sunday School together--as did the lady minister who's been the rector for eight years and is a relative newcomer.

I was home.