I cannot begin to express to you the beauty of three year-olds prancing around a stage all dressed in white leotards while Whitney Houston sings of how much she loves the Lord from a cd player turned up just a bit too loud. This weekend was a nice talk with my mother, happiness that the jacket I got my daddy for his birthday fit him, feeling way peacock-parent proud of my little betania, getting my two year-old cousin to identify my face with the name "Ria," and realizing that my brother is growing up super fast and it isn't all that tragic after all. It was clouds in the sky positioned just the right ways, coffee with my cousin while we caught up to each other's lives, being greeted at my church with open arms and smiling faces, and coming back here to find that life as I know it is shaping up to be not so bad after all.
It was a good day for going home, and a good one for coming back.