Beyond the Pale: The Smell of Soap

I have returned to Galway after a wonderful holiday with loved ones in Grand Rapids. I can’t help but compare the experience of my first sabbatical with this current one. When I returned home for Christmas seven years ago, what I remember the most is how soft everything seemed. In Italy, all my laundry was scratchy because it hung to dry. I specifically remember standing on the soft rug in the bathroom and marveling at how it felt under my feet.

My Galway apartment is much less stark than my Florence apartment, so while I appreciated the softness of home, the Christmas finery, and the roaring fire, what stands out the most to me on this trip is the people. I wish I had had the time to visit with everyone I wanted to see, but the people I did see made it a very special holiday. I spent a lot of time with my immediate and extended family; I don’t know why I continue to be surprised by how much my nephews grow and change, but it seems to happen every time I see them. I took multiple trips to Biggby Coffee on Plainfield with dad and Lloyd (dad’s walking and coffee drinking buddy/neighbor). I visited with dear friends like Chris, Paula, Becky, Karen, Janie and Steven.

I was so thrilled that Kevin visited for three days. I introduced him to family and friends he had not met, showed him around Grand Rapids (though I got us lost once!), and acquainted him with the wonder of Real Food Café pancakes. We also had two fantastic dinners out.

When I returned to Italy after Christmas break, I remember feeling surprised by how familiar things felt. This time I expected everything to feel familiar upon my return. I was surprised, though, that the most striking moment was when I washed my hands soon after arrival in my apartment—the hand soap I use here has a distinctive bitter lime smell and it smelled like home.