I've found it amusing when people ask, "So how was your trip home?…", or "How are you enjoying being home? What is it like?" ... Dear people. I love them to the hilt, but I never can decide how to answer. My verbal thoughts point blank would be along the lines of, "Home…feel…how do I feel…well…uh, you mean this burning of my throat? the heaviness inside and feeling of choking? The sudden bursts of crying - and then wondering why I'm doing that at all, because I'm so ridiculously happy being married to my amazing man…? That's how I feel."
But of course, you don't say that. I reply in terms that can be understood "Great! Good to see everyone. Sure - kind of strange after such a big change."
Every bride who's moved from a wonderful home has felt a little this way, I think.
It's been two months - two wonderful months that I've been married. Two months of discovering how much laughter, pleasure, sweetness, mixtures of joy and sorrow, adventure, comforting companionship and beauty there is in marriage. Two months of change. Two months of unpacking, meeting new people, seeing new places, figuring out how to thrive 1200 miles and 20 hours away from what I've always known as home. I feel raw. Raw from change. It's unrealistic to say I don't miss home; but I also see, plain as day that I've been given the beautiful beginnings of a home, a family, a new life.
She was sitting across from me at the booth. I'd had a lump in my throat all week. Now was my last day home, and Mama had set aside some time for "Real Talk". She was saying,
"...Sort of like what I've said, 'Don't wait for normal,' well, Don't wait for tomorrow to settle your home and make it what you want. Another big thing to remember is that we are not promised tomorrow. You have to Endeavor today.
These two months I've gone back and read every scrap of advice I could find from Mama and others, but especially Mama.
"It's time to get your hammer'n nails out and get busy. Get busy on what you can do."
So here's to a new phase of life, and doing what I can, today.
This morning I heard the sink running, plates and pots clanging. JB was washing my three day pile up of dirty dishes. I've been blessed. No matter what, I've already been blessed.
A man like that comes straight from the windows of heaven.
{While this blog will remain mostly for entries concerning Stories of the Grey Submarine, I will, as I have been wont to do in the past, enter my own thoughts and updates, when the notion takes me.}
But of course, you don't say that. I reply in terms that can be understood "Great! Good to see everyone. Sure - kind of strange after such a big change."
Every bride who's moved from a wonderful home has felt a little this way, I think.
It's been two months - two wonderful months that I've been married. Two months of discovering how much laughter, pleasure, sweetness, mixtures of joy and sorrow, adventure, comforting companionship and beauty there is in marriage. Two months of change. Two months of unpacking, meeting new people, seeing new places, figuring out how to thrive 1200 miles and 20 hours away from what I've always known as home. I feel raw. Raw from change. It's unrealistic to say I don't miss home; but I also see, plain as day that I've been given the beautiful beginnings of a home, a family, a new life.
She was sitting across from me at the booth. I'd had a lump in my throat all week. Now was my last day home, and Mama had set aside some time for "Real Talk". She was saying,
"...Sort of like what I've said, 'Don't wait for normal,' well, Don't wait for tomorrow to settle your home and make it what you want. Another big thing to remember is that we are not promised tomorrow. You have to Endeavor today.
These two months I've gone back and read every scrap of advice I could find from Mama and others, but especially Mama.
"It's time to get your hammer'n nails out and get busy. Get busy on what you can do."
So here's to a new phase of life, and doing what I can, today.
This morning I heard the sink running, plates and pots clanging. JB was washing my three day pile up of dirty dishes. I've been blessed. No matter what, I've already been blessed.
A man like that comes straight from the windows of heaven.
Mama and Abe
i know our cats just gotta wonder sometimes.
our band, of one night in which Abrum played his favorite Ranchero music, and we three girls danced around for half an hour, then followed Abe outside with yips and howls.
yes, law. Mama's peach cobbler.
JB, my Man.
my gift and husband and best friend.
{While this blog will remain mostly for entries concerning Stories of the Grey Submarine, I will, as I have been wont to do in the past, enter my own thoughts and updates, when the notion takes me.}
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