Time to get on the road

Things have wound themselves down here in Iowa.
Very anti-climatic.
We went out to dinner and watched a movie Saturday night; Sunday, it's mass, brunch and packing the Chrysler for the three-hour drive to Nebraska.
Dad and I are in a bit of a daze. Dad doesn't feel well - he's got an ear infection from his hearing aids and has a lot of phantom pain - and I feel like I'm going through the motions.
(I write this sans coffee; maybe I should take a break and pick up an Americano for fortification.)
My main purpose for being in Iowa - making sure First Sister's head didn't explode - is done; I feel like a shadow.
I am between time.
I am out of time.
Not in my own world, and trying to fit into this one.
(Friends have picked up on it in calls and emails; it's not like I'm sad or unhappy, just melancholy.)
I don't know that'll truly subside until I'm back in Cali.
This trip has been fun. It's been educational, too.
It's just at its end, that weird place that I think you get to on every vacation.
And I have two days to go.