Monday, January 31, 2011

I Had Come Home

"Where are you?" my daughter asked. "The girls want to know how long it will be until you get home."

Nice words to hear when you have been away from home for a few days. Of course, I missed them, but so nice to know they missed me, too.

My friend and I went to visit her grandson who is in his first year of college. Justin is a fantastic young man. He actually didn't mind hanging out with two grandmas. In fact, he thought he was lucky. A friend asked if he was going to do something, and he answered that, no, he had family visiting.

We like to know we are missed. Knowing that there are times when thoughts of us cross the minds of others warms the soul. No matter the age, we all love to know that we are thought of.

I had only been home a bit when my son called. "Are you coming over to see the puppy?" he asked.

I had been gone just a few days, and now I was immediately requested to go to their house and catch up on Millie activity. I'm not sure if I was to see what the puppy had learned or what James and Lisa had learned. Yet, those words, "are you coming over" take the tiredness of travel away.

I walked through the front door, and Millie came running, dashing between my legs, begging for attention. A grandma was happy to receive such a greeting from a grandpuppy.

The best part of my visits back to the farm in Ohio were that moments we got off the plane or walked through the door at the house back the lane. The hugs I received from my parents were priceless. A child had come home. I appreciate those hugs more now that I am older. Those embraces when we said 'good-bye' took the child home time and time again.

My friend and I had a lot of time to talk on the long trip over last weekend. We talked about grandchildren, we talked about children, we talked about getting older and we talked about death. It's love that is in the embrace of coming and going, of life and death. Love takes us home again and again even in our memories.

Millie danced around my feet as my granddaughter held on to my arm. I had come home.