Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration.
Our first weekend at home since Father’s Day.
Father’s Day was June 14th.
It’s now August 9th.
That’s a lot of weekends.
We miss life’s everyday simple gifts when in the hospital. My basic senses are deprived in such a sterile, complex environment.
I don’t smell our neighbor’s lilac bush carried on an evening summer breeze.
I don’t collect dirt underneath my fingertips when weeding my tomato bed.
I don’t taste a sweet strawberry plucked fresh from our garden…still warm from the sun.
I don’t become completely absorbed in Samantha’s face as she lays in the grass and wiggles her feet.
So this weekend I did all of these things. I also pee’d with the door open because I didn’t have to worry about a doctor, a nurse, housekeeping, or the volunteer from the library walking in. Home is a good place.
And it is even BETTER with the healing of Samantha! For the first time in months…really since April, we have a smiley, cuddly, interactive little girl. She looks so good. She feels good. She wiggles around. I can’t get enough of it. I feel drunk on her good health.
So send your prayers, your good thoughts, your juju, your divine connection with the universe, and your lucky rabbits foot that we have turned a corner and smiley Samantha is back and out of the hospital. ‘Cause really? There is nothing better.