Ev sent word from Hanoi, Vietnam late last night; he had just gotten up after a deep 8-hour sleep and was heading out to find some pho, the traditional Vietnamese comfort food. There was a big sigh of relief to hear from him and know that he was o-kay. The 24+ hours of flights and lay-overs had been brutal. He apologized that he had not emailed earlier, but once he had arrived in the hotel room, he passed out.
Last Thursday morning, we whisked him off to the airport for an early flight that started his journey back to Vietnam. Tracking his long flight on FlightAware was an all-day affair. I watched the little plane icon move across the map--from Chicago up over Canada, along the southern border of Alaska, then down to Japan. The last leg from Narita, Japan to Hanoi was easy-peazey-only a 6-hour flight compared to his earlier 13+ hour-flight. But this was really the hardest part of Ev's journey for me because once he landed in Vietnam, the reality hit. Evan was gone from this house. He was no longer sleeping in his old bed upstairs. Evan is now back home on the other side of the world.
