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Monday, July 11, 2011
A River of Stones: July 11
A small stone:
On the long drive home yesterday, I felt a deep sorrow. I missed my extended family with a tug of longing throughout the whole six and a half hour journey from Pennsylvania back to New Hampshire; my eyes welled up sporadically during the ride. I turned my face toward the window, weeping silently while my husband drove and the girls read and listened to their iPods.
More stones tumbling through the river of my mind:
Home, what is home? Home is connection, sometimes to place, but more so to the souls of our beloveds. My mother whispered into my ear in the morning as I cried into her shoulder, “I am with you always.”
It is all too easy to imagine that the essence of a living being is simply encased in skin and bones, (the way “home” may appear to be held in a place) but our bodies are permeable and the energy of who we truly are, travels on waves of love, compassion and kindness, flowing directly into our hearts and minds no matter where we happen to physically be. Still, there is great comfort in the tangible warmth and weight of arms wrapped around me in a hug, the scent of my mother’s kitchen, the resonance of my father's voice, my elder sister close enough for a silent, knowing elbow nudge when one of the kids says something funny or wise beyond their years.
My home is there. My home is here. Home is in a moment of remembering. Home is being present right now, opening to the love surrounding and filling me as I breathe. Home is next to my husband as he helps me up the steps into our house. Home is the soft tones of our daughters’ voices greeting the cats, picking them up, tufts of fur flying every-which-way. Home is my dog, wet and sweet smelling from the bath we gave her in the afternoon upon her return from her brief stay at the kennel, and the gentleness of her brown eyes looking into mine.
Home is a river of stones, not a handful, not a single smooth pebble placed carefully in a pocket, though that simple keepsake may be a catalyst awakening us to the present moment that is indeed home.