It occurred to me as we were pulling up to our house how your sense of “home” changes through the years. When I was little and we would go away on vacation I would always know we were “home” when I would get the first glimpse of our house from the top of the hill in our neighborhood. When we moved to another state my senior year in high school “home” was when I would see my parents waiting for me at the airport. When Nathan and I fell in love, “home” was coming back to him, and when we started traveling together “home” was our place together.
This trip it hit me the second I saw Sammie; I hadn’t even looked the house, hadn’t noticed the yard or the pile of fence materials in our driveway. I made a beeline for the front door and spotted Sammie through our sidelight running through the kitchen. She had her little strawberry nightgown on and was chasing Grandma around for her cup of water...
Home.
After many big hugs and kisses and several I love you's and I missed you's, I went upstairs and peeked at Brenna sleeping. Tushy up in the air, arm dramatically laying over her eyes as she slept...
Home.
No comments:
Post a Comment