Going home...

 This weekend, I did something that not very many 64-year-old people can do: I went home. And by "home," I mean the house I came to from the hospital where I was born, riding in my mother's lap because there were no car seats back then. By "home," I mean the house my father built, adding a room each time another child was due. The place where he laid every brick on the three chimneys, sawed every board, and even dug most of the well for our water by hand. My sister and her husband live there now, and though it looks different in many ways, it still feels the same. The water from the artesian well is still delicious, too. 

I was with my daughter and her two babies, and seeing the Owlet toddling on the same hardwood floors where I learned to walk was a treat. I took her for a little stroll and let her sit on the enormous boulder in the woods I spent hours perching on, pretending it was a tame elephant named Mia. The Owlet didn't see the appeal, but it made me grin to lift her there and remember. 

We were there to celebrate the impending birth of a new baby. My niece and her husband are expecting in December, and we are all so excited to welcome a new little one to love. There was a shower at a beautiful yacht club, and the weather was perfect. My niece was indeed showered with support, love, and gifts. Her sister made incredible efforts to decorate the place beautifully. Her mother and mother-in-law made more magic happen.  The food was delicious, and the tribe of women gathered to support the parents-to-be delightful. 

This weekend, I did something that left me awash in waves of nostalgia while welcoming magical beginnings. It was punctuated by time spent with my favorite people and the giggles of children. I loved every single second, and then I got to come home to my practically perfect husband, my cozy home, and all my critters. We sat in the backyard, shared a little wine, and I reflected on the sweet trip down memory lane while enjoying the bliss of the marvelous present and home we have created. I am so lucky.