Home Is Home Again

There is a lot of this these days.
I'm getting good at sharing.

There are two towels in the bathroom again. Two toothbrushes by the sink. Four places set at the table. A pair of boots beside the recliner. A jeep in the driveway. Workout gear in the laundry basket.

Home is home again.

I realize, all over again, how the missing is about the little moments as much as the big. Though he has missed births and birthdays, anniversaries and minor surgeries, Christmases and Thanksgivings, and yes, those are hard and his absence is felt, the long, slow ache of missing lies primarily in the day to day. It is wonderful to laugh with him over Tiny referring to vanilla yogurt as "ice cream yogurt", to share the grossness of the frozen rabbit he found in our back yard, to cuddle up beside him after yet another middle of the night nursing. It is wonderful to have him home for the little moments, just as I will be glad to share the big occasions with him again.

Our family is settling back into each other again, and watching the transformation on all of us is quickly becoming one of my favourite things.

The Little Man's first hug