happy to be home

Happy to be home. Even though I am sick (again).

Lucky to have such a wonderful husband who takes care of me when I am sick (again).

Relieved that the trip home did not include a cancelled flight and a bus ride like the trip there did.

Thankful to be sleeping. A lot. I do not get enough sleep when I visit family (and I guess I need some emotional, physical rest after a trip to see them).

Grateful to have spent a day with wonderful friends and to have reconnected with someone from long ago.

Excited to have stopped by to see my pre-school teacher, Mrs. Lewis. She still teaches the three year olds, in the same room. Oh that voice. It was like no time had passed. I love that woman.

And blessed, truly blessed, to have had a really great little moment with my father. I have come to a place in my life where I have really been able to separate my expectations/dreams of what my relationship with him could be from the reality. And I am able to see that he does the best he can, even though I know I wish for a deeper relationship with him. Because I have let go of these expectations, I have been able to let go of the moments when he is not such a great father or when he says/does things I don't agree with or support. I know that his behavior is not about me; it is about him. And even more important, in the last two years, I have been able to be present in the moments when he truly is a father. Sunday night when I came back to his house to spend the night, I was starting to get really sick. He had made homemade soup and heated some up for me. I was sitting at his kitchen table, and he brought me a corn muffin to go with the soup. Then without saying anything he sliced it in half and buttered it for me. In that split second, I was a little girl, his little girl, who was sick, and he was doing what he could to help me feel better. I sat there in awe. I can't remember the last time I felt like he was my dad and not just a friend. My daddy. It was truly a blessing to remember.

Happy to be home.