To Grandmother's House we Go

Upon returning to home it seems there is an unspoken (if you're fortunate) pressure to make time for all the family and friends who have so beautifully and graciously supported you while you made the choice to live half a world away. And while, in that time of transition you find yourself often wanting to simply sit and just be, to try to wrap your finite mind around the grandness of what has just taken place, you remember how these are the people that you came back for. Because when you left in the first place, it was never to escape, it was simply to be and to experience and you left a lot behind, both then and now. So, when it suddenly seems you have a free evening and a vehicle and not only are grandparents within driving distance but the parents you've yet to see will be at the grandparent's house, you make the only logical choice, drive to Torrington and receive the familial hugs for which you've been longing. 

Upon arrival, after hugs and love and all that good stuff you've been missing you join the women and take a quick trip to the local pizzeria, order two large pizzas and return to enjoy them as a family, gathered in the living room and around the dining room table. You chastise your grandmother for the ridiculous amounts of pizza, cheese and lunch-meat that she's feeding your sweet three-legged mutt while simultaneously giving thanks that your sweet mutt is being loved just as much and as well as she was in her home country. You listen to the same old stories, new stories and even manage to tell a few of your own. You look up at the clock, disappointed to see that time continues to move forward and your work schedule is requiring that you begin the drive home for proper rest and safety on the road. You soak in a few more hugs, pile into the car, look lovingly out at your family who welcomed you home and the man and the mutt that are always by your side and realize that a quiet night, sitting and contemplating change would have been nothing compared to this moment.

And, when you return home, you decorate your dining room table with a fall-themed, handmade gift from your lovely grandma and start to feel like your heart still beats in this place, in this home. You gingerly unwrap old newspapers from the Blue Willow dishes you've coveted, loved and desired for as long as your little heart can remember and are further reminded that indeed, your heart beats in two places and indeed, you will always ache for one when you're in the other, yet that ache will not be alone. As the heart aches, it will swell because you recognize that your love and the love you receive comes so fully and beautifully from multiple corners of the world, and that, is so incredibly perfect.