coming home

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We are home.  This was not the view we had as we finished the last leg of the long journey.....because it was pouring rain instead but I like this photo of sunset......it speaks to the ending of something.  We left Virginia at 9am, and watched fighter jets and military helicopters take off and land at the air port until our flight left.  We laid over in Atlanta, and I charged my Ipad just enough to finish the novel I had been reading for months and months when I had a chance.  It is Nicole Baart's book: The Beautiful Daughters.  People.  Read this book.  It is so, so good!  I rushed to the bathroom and then to the airport bookstore before our connecting flight boarded because I am now reading again for pleasure!  I chose a book, gobbled down the airport lunch that Roger and I shared, and boarded the next plane.

I felt eager to get home today because it was the "go home" day.  Had we planned to stay longer, I would have been happy to stay away longer.  Something about knowing its time to go home makes a mama ready to be home.  I've missed Josiah's hugs and snuggles, and Precious' deep thoughts and tenderness.  I've missed hugs from Jeremiah and sarcasm and wit....and affection...from Isaac.  I have missed Claire and all the fullness of her life right now....and Grace with her sweet and silly self.  I've missed my house and the comfort and familiarity of it......and the security of routine and tempo to our days.  I've missed the dogs.....and the ability to make a light or bigger meal depending on my mood and what is available to cook.  I love cooking.

We got home at around 7:30 pm and the kids were here and ready for hugs and treats and mom and dad.  I tucked the littles into my bed and read 2 stories and they snuggled in to sleep.  The boys gave hugs and talked awhile, then went to bed.  Grace was video-taping us as we got out of the car.....and I think she was the most happy we were home.....Nana and Papa left soon after, since their duty was done.  A bit later, Claire came in and hesitantly came to the bedroom where I had just gotten littles to sleep......

I came out to the dining room table, where all relevant things occur.  I poured more wine and sat with her as we talked about her week, her assignments, poetry, friends, boys.....and we talked some more, and some more.....and I think just maybe, my teen-age daughter was glad I was home.  (ssshhhh....quiet cheer....yey, yey, yey!).....and now its almost midnight and everyone has gone to bed.  My house is clean.  My house is quiet.  I am in my house.  Gosh.  I love it here.  I love travelling and exploring and being enmeshed in other regions for a bit but nothing.  NOTHING.......is as good as home.

Home means water that tastes right when you drink it.  Home means smells and sounds that are familiar.  Home means everything I see and touch has an explanation.  It belongs here because I said it should.  This is my home.  These are my people.....They are not strangers on the beach, or mysterious conversations in the airport, or curious couples having breakfast in our hotel....all with their own story to tell....these are my people.  We tell our stories together.  We live our lives as one.  My family.  My home.  My life.

I think vacation away helps define this best.  And I am grateful both for the going away and the coming home.  

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