What a week. As quickly as it began a week ago today, I feel like almost as quickly he landmarks we passed on our 600 mile journey home came flashing back by.
I don’t love going home. I never have. I love my family but there’s something about the place. The week started off rough but by Friday I was behind words happy that I felt truly cared for and Important to my extended family. I felt more than a leftover obligation they inherited when my mo died and felt like a member of the family.
The girls were beyond spoiled rotten. We all were. The sheer number of gifts. The people wanting to see us and feed us and spend time. Unfortunately we didn’t get to see them all. The comfort of my dad’s house.
Then, I got home and unpacked the awesome bag of goodies my dad sent from his store and found my favorite Mexican food from his girlfriend. The one thing I don’t know how to make. She listened when I told her I love them and brought me some chile rellenos. It’s the little things.
The friends that patiently listened and made me smile and made me laugh this week. I’m beind lucky to have them. Even in my phone I felt like they were right next to me. Gah, I love those girls.
And now I’m home in our warm house on this cold December night. Our bellies are full (thanks dad), and our hearts are happy. My girls are sleeping and I’m getting ready to crawl in my nice warm bed with my best friend to finally get a good night’s rest after a very long week.
I’m beyond blessed.