from an article originally posted February 2, 2015...
Home: the land of my people. Home: the place my story rests. Home: where all my favorite kisses are awaiting me. Home: the glorious place I am safe.
Today: home. It is exhilarating. And it is scary. I know my head may need to come to rest in this new hospital place once again. These hospice rooms in the hospital are beyond lovely, and the care is supreme, but home, well, it's just home.
This hospital trip has quieted my beach longings, and caused me to realize what a gift home is. Home... My exhale. A beach sounds nice, but coming home today...well, that beats any beachy trip we could imagine. Big floppy hats can wait; I'm headed home.
What is home to you? Where is your exhale? What dreams sometimes steal your contentment of what you have?
