The Coda at the Dock of Miami

Breakfast has never tasted so bad. The eggs are under-cooked, the fruit is bitter and the cereal is too quick to dissolve.

I may be projecting a bit.

As we near land, I resent that everyone is on their cell phones. It's our last day together, people! Aren't you devastated like I am?! I go outside to catch my last view of sweeping ocean before the screams of parents at the port sullies the pristine-ness of it. Bobby, Barb and Nicole are to meet us there, in that horde of people, but I can't manage to find them even after everyone else around me has located their families. It's been so long away from home that I've forgottten what my own family is like—Fridricks? Late, of course.

But we won't be off the ship for another few hours, so all the better for them. We disembark by floors, and ours is about the last to get off. So we wait around in headquarters for our turn, and our friends turns; a few friends come by the room for goodbye hugs. When Eilis' group is called, Kristin and I head up to the gangway on the fifth floor. We can hear the cries and sobs of people before we even reach them. When I hug Eilis goodbye, we both start to cry, but I won't show Kristin, because she'll call me weak. But whatever, I'm sad and I'm crying, and everyone else is crying, so Kristin is the odd man out here.

A sidenote to that: I used to attribute people's lack of emotion to toughness. I have never questioned someone for not crying. But the thought that people can go through this horrible goodbye without getting sad, well, that's something to question. And in Kristin's case, I wonder if I may have ruined her emotionally, after Nicole, Yoshi and I terrorized her so successfully as a wee one. Come to think of it, Drew isn't crying either.

Finally, our turn comes. As I leave, my ship ID is confiscated and I look over my shoulder as if to say, "Goodbye forever."Then a very dramatic exit, slowly trudging down the stairs, feeling as if the sky is pressing against my head.

Little do we know then, but when we get outside, everyone is still there, hanging around the grass lot outside. Eilis has located Bobby, Barb and Nicole, and a few other friends are able to meet the fam before they disperse for their own flights home. Hundreds of hugs later, Drew and Bobby separate to drive back to Ohio, and the rest of us—Barb, Nicole, Kristin, me, and even Eilis—load into the van and drive around until we have to drop Eilis off at the Miami Airport to fly back to New York.

We continue on to Bayside Marketplace for lunch/dinner. In honor of Chris, we eat at Chili's. It's a decent enough American meal, but doesn't come close to sating me after those months of deprivation.

The rest of Florida involves a lot of eating and family loving; picture and story sharing, too.

But a short day later, it's home for me. I am thankful that there is little to say about this travel day, as all flights are on time, no luggage is lost, and nothing positive to the point of mentioning occurs either.

Though I would like to stay close to that ship forever, it departs Miami with the dawn of the day following our disembarkation. So now that my schemes for sneaking back on to sail along into eternity are foiled, and I absolutely cannot return to my home on the ship, I would like very much to return to my first home, with my parents, so that I may start sharing my stories.