On Coming Home

We were gone for a week, seven days of resting and relaxing. We were comfortable, hosted by a master of hospitality whose gentle combination of care and companionship left just enough time to be ourselves.

It snowed, and the world was washed in white, and I found part of myself that had been missing for many weeks.

I rested in grace, in the bonds of family and friendship that continue to grow and evolve into something beautiful. I sank into the love of a good man who continues to embrace every layer of self that I reveal, surprising me all the while.

When it came time to turn back toward the reality of life and work and all the responsibilities that come daily, I was reluctant. So much so, in fact, that I kept begging for one more day. Our four-day trip turned to five…and then six..and then seven. I tentatively suggested we stay until the very last minute, but wisdom prevailed and we came home in time to allow for a day of readjustment.

And this is the point, then, of all that: I walked into my house last night and was overwhelmed with a joy surprisingly deeper than I had experienced in the comfort of that other home for the past week. On the windowsill in the kitchen, three small poinsettias, still blushing red, splashing color into the space, singing “NOEL” with four wooden letters that have spoken into my Christmas for fifteen years now. Draped on the couch, the felt throw that Daniel tied together last year; through the hallway door, our bedroom and the deep blue paint of the walls that hold our affections. The cat, more like a dog, who comes running to meet Tony and nuzzle him affectionately. The long table, once a place to brainstorm creative ideas for work, now a place to do that and more, to hold our family together over a warm meal. The Christmas trees – not one, but two, because I wanted one for the kitchen and Tony wanted one for the living room, and the best part of compromise is not figuring out whose idea is better but finding a way for everybody to win.

Soft, warm light filled the house. I looked around and it was home.

I just needed a little perspective. Seven days was enough.

I am home.

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