My eyes blink open to black of night, my body disoriented to time and place. It's saying nine but the clock insists it's three.
Familiar is foreign and foreign is familiar.
Crazy, sleepy thoughts, crafted from fatigue and mental exhaustion, the toll paid from a day chasing sunlight, 24 hours with eyes staked open. Sometimes they forget how to shut.
Home is where the heart is and mine is a heart divided.
Hansel and Gretel I think in dreamy delirium, but it fits. All these places I've visited, and each one is My Favorite – how can that be possible? but it is! – I've left a trail of crumbs, pieces of my heart, hopeful (but uncertain) to return to gather them again.
Such thoughts are lullaby and they sing me back to sleep, attempt at aligning my life (again) to this place. I'm grateful to God so I tell Him.
This time morning's light nudges me awake and I rise to her call. It's chilly in this house – I'm not used to artificial air yet – so I dig for the fleece and hug it close.
My house is full with the sound of sleep so I pad on fairy feet to my kitchen. I open the cabinet door, greeted by my favorite mug–I swear I hear her whisper, "Welcome home, dear friend." I squeeze her happy with both hands.
I measure coffee for two cups full, sit at my counter and begin to drink in the day.
And then the coffee is ready.
Welcome back! I’m going to miss those nifty Instagram pictures.
LOL, are you KIDDING, Monica? I'll be sharing instagram pictures FOREVER; I've never been one to post a bunch at a time, so I'm still sifting through favorites. Or is that wrong? Should I not share 'em when I'm not actually there?
Of course, that being said, I'm only home for a month…then we head back for three. Crazy, yes…this, my life.
Hope you're doing well and happy to know you've been spying on me a little xo.
Hell lovely … so nice to have you back xxxx
Good Lawd … that was supposed to say Hello!
LOLOL Nicole!! I knew what you meant to say, but goodness that was funny! 🙂
And thank you…
BTW, I've got an email coming your way; you've been on my mind A LOT since our FB exchange xo.
Welcome “home”! Enjoy your time (but what am I saying? This is Robin!)!
Welcome home, friend! Chattanooga just relaxed its shoulders a bit now that you are back!
This is beautiful. So happy to be along for your adventures. We keep traveling across the country every few months. That is disorienting enough, I can’t imagine how it must be doing it around the world. May your time at home be supernaturally refreshing.
I always thought home was the house where I grew up. Couldn’t imagine how my point of reference could ever be somewhere else. Then I moved out. Then I got married. Then we moved far away. Silently, somehow, that point of reference moved itself when we weren’t looking.
Until one day I returned to the house where I grew up. My parents were selling it. I came home to help clean up and move out. Except it was no longer my home. My dad was sick, and it fell on my shoulders to manage the transition. I sat at the counter in the kitchen, tea mug in hand, and I longed for home. My home. Wishing worlds didn’t have to change to the extent that they do.
When they were finally in their new place and things settled enough for me to make the long trip back to my wife and kids, I remember making that first cup of tea in my favorite mug, sitting there as my fingers slowly wrapped around it. And I realized my definition of home had changed in ways the childhood me could never have imagined.
Every time I pick up that mug, that’s what I think about.
Glad you’re home, safe and sound. Let us know when the book publishes 🙂
Shelly, I sure am gonna try my darndest. But you knew that 😉 :).
Tiffany, I LOVE that sentiment; so kind of you to say! I’m hopeful to see you soon (and your babies!!) and bring you your prize from waaaaaaay back!
McKt, I don’t think I’d make a great gypsy, but I’m learning new ways of embracing “today” and whatever that may hold. And it’s so nice to know I’m not so alone, that people are “traveling with” me, ya know? Thank you.
Ahhh, Carmi….you remind me why I fell for blogging all those years ago. Stories told well, full of meaning and significance.
When I dream of my childhood home, it’s my grandmother’s house. For a few years following her death, we lived there, and it’s one of the consistent places in my past. I think with the death of my mother when I was so young, my definition of “home” changed early. But it also continued to change without me being aware.
How lovely your mug serves as a portal to memory.
Now, home is in some ways a place but always when my children are with us. It’s good to be in “this” version of home for a while :).
Wonderfully written! I had to read it twice to take it in properly 🙂 Some of it feels familiar to me – some I look forward to experiencing. Just came across your blog. Thanks for this!
My wife just broke her “SHHH I’m Reading” Mug, identical to the one photographed on the web page. She is not exactly crying, but… Well, do you know where I can buy one just like it?
I know this feeling so well! All the places I’ve been are My Favorite too. Who can pick just one? It’s like picking a favorite child–impossible:)