Once again, she had traveled thousands of miles, crossed oceans and continents, only to find herself back at the beginning

But here there was only sky, and a stillness made audible by the brittle grass. Emptiness was so perfect all around me that I [Rose Wilder Lane] felt a part of it, empty myself; there was a moment in which I was nothing at all—almost nothing at all. The only thing left in me was Albania. I said, I want to go back to Albania. She did not appear to recognize it, but her description matched, detail for detail, another high plain under a vast sky, another prairie covered with brittle grass, far to the west. Once again, she had traveled thousands of miles, crossed oceans and continents, only to find herself back at the beginning.

C. Fraser, Prairie Fires: The American Dreams of Laura Ingalls Wilder (2016), 278

Fraser's biography of Ingalls Wilder is in large part a double biography of her daughter also. Those parts are simultaneously frustrating and achingly sad.