But not because the event was a dissapointment. No because it was the opposite. The Holiday was so great that it seems like you’ve reached the top of the mountain and now it’s all downhill.
Since we’ve been back home there has been some zillion piles of laundry and I am smacked right in the middle of life. Real life. Unwashed dishes on the counter, piles of paper cluttering the desk and a floor that looks speckled with marble its SO dirty. School supplies and August lists are coming in close.
I am home from a trip that took me driving back into the warm cozy sweater of belonging. I really do not want to take off that sweater.
There we talked about our quinoa salad recipes and compared rolls that gathered about the jeans. We shared fears that our graduates aren’t going to get a job that gives purpose and prayed that the world will be gentle on them. We swatted mosquitoes off each others backs and high-fived our friends kids.
We cried with each others cancer burden, loving our parents and feeling helpless.
I’m not sure if it’s the reality of all the laundry (I think I’ve said that already) or the fact that when we were in the prairies I couldn’t tell when I was home and when I was visiting, that now has me feeling confused. My dreams at night tie together all the people and places both here and there. I think we were gone for 4 years too long.
I confess, I did not appreciate all I had. And probably I’m doing it right now as well. Not appreciating those who live around me now. I did not give thanks for the 40 acres of freedom that we walked on a daily basis. I did not notice that all those community fun nights would link our kids to a place and their parents to memories.