Almost three months ago I packed my car with two weeks of clothes for the Lovely Ladies and myself and I made the days journey from DC to the place my heart calls home: Indiana. What was to be a short bit of respite with my parents has turned into a very long and drawn out porterhouse steak of respite. I can't even articulate properly (and believe me, I've been TRYING) how this trip has rejuvenated and restored me. You see, in case you aren't one of the chosen few privy to the inner workings of my personal life, let me explain to you what is happening in the lives of The Hayes Family as of late. Last year Jeremy entered a two year residency program at the National Naval Medical Center...AKA: the President's hospital. He is specializing in comprehensive dentistry, a specialty, while not officially recognized by the ADA, is pretty much The Bees Knees in the military.
Because this program is basically a four year program condensed into two years, we don't see him very much. And, that's OK, we knew that it would be this way going in, it just gets lonely sometimes. And with that being said, I ran away home...to my mommy and daddy, and YES, I DO still call them that. I will most likely still call them that as I wipe their butts and humor their dementia riddled tales of yore in the years to come.
I have been in my old room at the top of the stairs in the Lemon Drop House for almost three months now. I have shared laughter and tears with my family...but now it is time for me to go. Back to life...back to reality. In my brief time on this Earth I have learned some hard but valuable lessons, one of them being that, just like it was written a long, long time ago: for every thing there is a season. And while I am sad that this very special season with my parents is drawing to a close, I am looking forward to what the future will hold. Until then, I will give you the short list of what has happened in the last three months.
I got two flat tires, both of which had roofing nails in them. And while this may at first appear to be a bad thing, it afforded me some one on one time with Ellie on a very large playground while we waited for them to be repaired. And it was there that she dutifully taught me that not only can angels be made of snow, but they also come in the SAND variety!
I dropped my iPhone in the toilet. And, NO, surprisingly I had NOT been drinking! Lesson learned: Find more appropriate means of entertainment whilst in the loo.
I turned 30! I arose, looked at myself in the mirror, felt the same and went on about my business without much hullabaloo or fanfare. I DID however visit the Indianapolis Museum f Art and consume an alarming amount of carbs, both of which are my favorite things to do on MY day.
I watched Lilacs, poppies, peony's, and irises bloom with baited breath and a great deal of excitement. After such a long and laborious winter, I can't recall a spring I have enjoyed more.
I planted things in the Earth. I felt the dirt in between my fingers and underneath my fingernails. I remembered the satisfaction I derive in the cultivation of living things.
I watched six baby chicks grow into almost adults and in doing so, I watched Ellie draw from wells of compassion and maternal instinct that I did not know she possessed. It warmed my heart and soul to know that not one downy feather on their little bodies was harmed while under her care.
MY BABY TURNED ONE. Has it already been a year, Dear Readers? How is it that life passes me by with such speed? She has six teeth, can call cats and dogs, and sign many more things and possesses a spirit tantamount to that of Mount Vesuvius. Lion was an appropriate name for her because she is a fierce and all together wondrous being.
I talked to God on a golf course and was moved to tears on more than one occasion at the beauty of this life.
I lost the last of the baby weight, fit into pants long forgotten about and found myself once again, not in the skinny jeans, and not in the job, but in those quiet moments I stole away for myself.
Now as I pack our things and prepare for our journey back east, I can feel a sob threaten to rise in my throat and break through my granite facade. It hurts sometimes, this life. I wish I could have it all: My husband, my parents, a white pickett fence, and a happy family free from trials. But I know better. Experience has taught me that, much like diamonds, our characters are forged through great trials and sometimes great pain. I will miss this place, but I also anticipate the resuming of my life. MY. LIFE.
I will leave this place once again changed from the form in which I arrived, but then again, that's the point isn't it?