My Daughters are Home

Posted to Two Writing Teachers Tuesday Slice of Life Challenge

The house is full.
My daughters are home.

I still say “home” even though it’s not really home to them anymore.

It’s not the home they grew up in,
not where they lived for 4 years and
10 years when they were little
and before my oldest went off to college.

It’s the home we built after they graduated from college
and they were no longer living with us.

It’s the “home” they come to when they come home.

It’s home because we’re all together,
and together we make it home.

My daughters are home.
They fill up the house.
Every corner is taken with their belongings.
Every table top is cluttered
with books, cameras, and electronic devices.
All the bedrooms are occupied.
The bathrooms look used.

Evidence is everywhere.
It screams, “We’ve been here.
We’re here still.”

They mark the territory.
It becomes theirs.
We welcome them.
And there is balance in the world.
All is right after all.

Until they leave again.

Then, my husband, my son and I readjust,
find our center because it has shifted.
It takes a few days for our routines
to make themselves present again
even as we fight the change
because it means
we’re on our own again.

My daughters are home.

An ordinary day

Today is my birthday.
It was an ordinary day.

I’m on spring break but that doesn’t mean much because there’s always something to do.
My husband and I ran errands.

Later, our niece and nephew came by. We celebrated with cake and ice cream.

I don’t need much for my birthday.
All I want is family and friends around.
I know it may sound strange and like I’m being modest,
but it’s the truth.

So, talking with my daughters on the phone, and spending time with my son and
my husband is the only gift I want.

All in all, it was a good day. I even bought a Mike Wazowski for myself!

Seriously, though, I’m grateful for what I have and that’s all that really matters.


Cross posted to Two Writing Teachers Tuesday Slice of Life.