Home, Sweet Home

A few days pit-stop-recovery at my parent's has been exactly what the doctor ordered. Literally. Sleep. Movies. Actual food. And someone to draw the curtains in the morning. There's no place like home. Nor the voices and noises that fill it.

The jingle bell on the back door chimed as R and O arrived home from school yesterday afternoon. I was sitting in my pajamas in the dining room, still feeling a bit under the weather, watching the clock on my mom's laptop. 2:15. Any minute. With the scuff of bare feet, O and I reunited between back door and dining room, Susan scurrying in behind her. Mom and Susan imitated our emotions, as Steve, Christmas cold and all, stepped in from outside. Dr. R was quickly checked in, asking for blood sugar facts and discharge orders while my Mom handed Susan her gift, unwrapped, and unusable until next year.

As those sweet, familiar faces filled the dining room, it was as if Christmas simultaneously commenced and concluded all within a matter of seconds. They're home.

The age-old adage rings true:

There's no place like home for the holidays
No matter how far away you roam
When you pine for the sunshine
Of a friendly face
For the holidays, you can't beat
Home, sweet Home!

*and, with the return of E sometime soon (hint, hint) all will be right.