Home Sweet Home
Why do we go on vacation? So we can come home.
I got home from the beach yesterday. And make no mistake, I love the beach. I spent the last week in the company of my daughter, my son in law and the three small humans they grew from scratch and it was amazing! I love them all to the moon and back. I adored every second I was blessed to be with them in that place.
And then, I set myself on the road home with a relief and a longing I didn’t realize had been growing in me.
I gratefully pulled into my familiar development. I did not stop on the four hour drive home for gas, or food, or a potty break. It was a straight shot. Doorstep to doorstep. As fast as the speed limit and my conscience would allow.
I walked into my home. My home. It smelled right and it was full of my things. Familiar and comforting. I collapsed onto the comfort of my soft well worn leather couch with a sigh and spoke lovingly to my house plants. I know they have missed me.
I checked my bird feeders, and freshened them up, even though my neighbor had done a great job of overseeing things in my absence. The connection back to my birds was key. It was for me, not the bird’s well being.
I did laundry, even washing clean clothes, so that everything would smell ‘right’. No hint of slightly musty beach house closet would cling to this world, my blessed reality.
I turned on my surround sound system and my favorite Pandora station as I cleaned my nearly empty fridge and prepared a grocery list. I would be feeding myself again. My food, my choices. No more eating by committee that included the likes and dislikes of toddlers. I was re-entering The Land Of Adults. This is one of the best parts of being a grown up. And solitary living.
I wasn’t quite up to that grocery trip just yet, so I texted a friend and made arrangements to meet later at favorite pub for dinner. I had been missed by other adults in my tribe. That knowledge made me smile.
As I got ready to go out, I gratefully acknowledged my love for my garden tub. And my candles. And my special shampoo. And my body wash. Even the very towels — old though that they are — welcomed me back to my space in with their softness and comforting fresh scent.
Later, after dinner, when I curled up in my own bed — devoid of small bodies needing comfort and conversation before they nodded off to dreamland — I savored my life.
All the gifts I have been given I can not even begin to list here. How blessed am I that returning from the beach can feel so wonderful?
Thank you, Thank you, Thank you. For my vacation and for my reality.
