Filed under: Good for nothing thoughts
Every time I leave town, I get a sense of…panicked excitement when its time to return. Its been that way since I was younger…there is something about coming home, that thrills me to no end.
Having been ½ way across the country (Atleast, that’s how it seemed) and back again, Ive seen a little bit of scenery. Wheat fields. Desert grounds. Dry heat. 115 degrees (seriously hot). Lakes. Fields…and the rest. I took the ferry, and rode with a group of people down through Canada, into Washington, Oregon, Idaho, and into Nevada. All in the matter of a few days.
This afternoon, as the ferry approached the docks, I felt that intense excitement building up inside me…and as I grabbed my bags, walked off the ferry, and greeted the cold air with the mixture of sun I sighed relief. I was back. Home. Back to the daily grind, chaos and stress.
The ferry arrived shortly after the annual 4th of July parade was over. The fire trucks were backing in, red and blue streamers lay littered on the ground, the smell of smoke and overly cooked hot dogs filled the air…flags blew in the breeze, and a stray uncle sam wandered down the road aimlessly…and I had to smile. Because Im home…and I have never been so happy in my life.
The kids weren’t home when I arrived so I had a few minutes to take in the situation before the door swung open and three totally jacked high on sugar kids bust through the doors, red white and blue paint plastered to their faces, dressed patriotically, dragging bags of candy, toy tops and a deflated monkey. But they dropped everything they had and ran towards me screaming as loud as possible could be before they both informed me in 5 seconds flat how MUCH FUN they had these past two weeks…and that they were glad I was back, but they really had FUN!! I had to smile again. Because this is home. This is my life…and I couldn’t be happier than I am today.
….and Josh who stood off to the side while the bells and whistles went off with the other kids, even released his grip on the neighbor long enough to find his way over to me before bursting into tears – and while I smiled, it was forced. Because feeling his tight grip around my neck and his hot tears slide off his face and onto mine, I wondered if I had once again screwed up. The blue splotches of paint on his face were the remains of a face painting gone wrong, and the hair plastered to the side of his head, and red eyes told me that wasn’t the first time he had cried today, and one quick look at my friend who watched them these past few weeks told me all I needed to know: he survived. But that was about it. But I forced a smile, because in a few weeks we go back to court and hopefully I can say with complete confidence that he IS mine as well…
I smiled today, I laughed, and I heard stories from two different sides. Madison sat perched on the edge of her chair jumping up every so often to emphasize her point, and Dylan had to much energy to contain him in a chair as he bounced around the table on one foot then the other…and Josh heaved a final sigh of relief before falling asleep in my arms where remained the majority of the afternoon…and I had to smile, because I couldn’t not: Im home…and glad to be.
Happy Fourth of July!
It may not be the best, but it sure is pretty good.
