Homecoming

I've come to the understanding that "Home, Sweet Home" is not just a cliche. It's an accurate portrayal of life.

The weekend was more than I could have hoped for it to be. I reconnected with friends and family, some of which I haven't seen in more than a decade. The wedding was beautiful. The food delectable, the bride stunning, and the groom dutifully captivated by her. None could have asked for more, but weekend getaways end, and one returns home with memories to treasure.

I took a gamble this morning and went to the airport early in hopes of catching an earlier flight. My children were needing me, or rather, I was needing them, and there's something about going to a wedding without your own husband that makes you appreciate him even more than you already did, and encourages that mad dash through the terminal as if flames were hurrying you along.

The masterful broccoli head, almost perfect for picking upon my departure started to separate, and many radishes sent up stalks, but everything was still edible and sweet. My beans broke the surface, the cucumbers aren't far behind, and I see the start of my zucchini poking it's leaves through the dirt. Most of all, in spite of a few pin-prick holes, the bugs stayed away....they must have heard of my unmerciful dispatchment of their friend on Thursday.

However, with all the triumphs, there will be some setbacks. Because of my early flight, I thought I had bought some time. I was wrong. It only took being gone for two and a half days, but it happened.

My daughter forgot who I was.

I met them at the park where they were playing after dinner. I walked toward the girl with my arms out; she in turn stomped her little feet, scrinched up her face, and said, "NO! NO!" while waving her hand beside her face as if she were chasing the daemons away. When the boy caught wind of me and called my name, the light went on for the girl and she and he both stayed connected to my leg, and my husband held my hand as we walked to the car.

Home is sweet, indeed.

I've greeted the garden and schnuffled the children, and now it's time for me to remember the events of this weekend, sit down next to my husband and let him know how lucky I am to be his bride.

Sweet gardening dreams. The morning comes early, but hopefully not too early - at least for this one night.