Wednesday, June 20, 2012


The first night we arrived home, I felt dizzy. I looked down at the bathroom counter and it seemed lower than before. I went to place my hand upon the banister and found I had to reach further for it than my muscles remembered. This place, this home where I grew and matured, slept and ate-- my body knows it intimately. Returning to it, it seemed somehow different and it left my equilibrium second-guessing itself.
The bathroom sink had not descended and the banister hadn't shifted with time. I had.
It feels like a graduation ceremony every day here. I have returned to the setting of my dreams, only now they are realities. Instead of sitting sullen on my double bed as a teenager, wishing for my prince to come (and listening to Papa Roach), I lay my head down every night next to my husband of nearly five years. Our union is an accomplishment, one that continues to achieve new heights weekly.
I lounge on my mom's living room couch, curling my fingers atop her cat's fluffy head. The same cat who, as a kitten, sat in my lap and absorbed my cries as I wondered why I had to lose a pregnancy. I am here again with my daughters, (plural!), celebrating my good fortune daily. I feel like a giant, intricate puzzle piece has been firmly fitted into its place; motherhood is the climax of my life's accomplishments. It is the apex of my spiritual growth, though I find I am learning and growing hourly as I parent and nurture my girls.
I feel like I have arrived, like this is it, this is as good as it gets and I can't imagine it getting any better. Then Hailey smiles a toothy grin at me and it does. Abby plays a scene between two giraffe toys, mother and child, and I beam in pride. It is always getting better than I imagined on each of my previous visits home.

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