This morning, I woke up wishing I was back at my home in the country. I've been missing the girl in me. The fact is she is a mother now, and a wife. Not just a girl, like she used to be.
Every now and then, I want her to resurface, to breathe a little.
This morning, I imagine myself home, snuggled with Sunny in a blanket next to the fire. My dad would be fixing his speciality - whole wheat walnut waffles. He likes his burnt-crisp.
He sets the peanut butter out for me.
Tuesday we'll make our way back home. Home for the holiday. Those words sound so sweet to me.
Last year at this time, the anticipation of returning was nearly the only thing that got that post-partum wreck-of-a-woman (me) through the first few weeks of motherhood. It was something to hope for, something to look forward to.
Going home.
It made me well again.
It made we realize that somehow, some way, things had changed. My concept of home had transformed itself from something physical, into something emotional - even spiritual.
Only now am I learning how home is here and there for me - that my heart longs to be in a great many places - places I've come to know and love deeply.
Home is very much a feeling -- a feeling that I channel all my endeavors to create for my own darling - a feeling that the girl within longs to revisit every now and then.
Especially as snow falls, and as the weather cools and I begin recalling the warmth and perfection of childhood.
This week, I am coming home.
Every now and then, I want her to resurface, to breathe a little.
This morning, I imagine myself home, snuggled with Sunny in a blanket next to the fire. My dad would be fixing his speciality - whole wheat walnut waffles. He likes his burnt-crisp.
He sets the peanut butter out for me.
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Tuesday we'll make our way back home. Home for the holiday. Those words sound so sweet to me.
Last year at this time, the anticipation of returning was nearly the only thing that got that post-partum wreck-of-a-woman (me) through the first few weeks of motherhood. It was something to hope for, something to look forward to.
Going home.
It made me well again.
It made we realize that somehow, some way, things had changed. My concept of home had transformed itself from something physical, into something emotional - even spiritual.
Only now am I learning how home is here and there for me - that my heart longs to be in a great many places - places I've come to know and love deeply.
Home is very much a feeling -- a feeling that I channel all my endeavors to create for my own darling - a feeling that the girl within longs to revisit every now and then.
Especially as snow falls, and as the weather cools and I begin recalling the warmth and perfection of childhood.
This week, I am coming home.
Winter also makes me "recall the warmth & perfection of childhood".
ReplyDeleteI hope your trip home is wonderful.