On bonding with baby & returning home again

I’m wrapping myself in solitude as I reflect on last week's awesome joys

Hello again, dear ones. It’s so good to be back with you.

There’s something about unlocking the kitchen door and pushing it wide open after a time away. Our arms are laden with bags and luggage, the accumulation of odds and ends that have survived the trip home. We drop everything where it lands and slowly look around at all that’s familiar . . . yet now somehow seems just a bit out of sorts.

Returning home is a process for while the rooms look the same, it’s like the life has been drained out of them. The air is still, there’s been no love or laughter or daily activity. The four walls simply sit there, biding their time, yearning for opened windows and fresh breezes, comings and goings, meal-making and the hum of voices. Some measure of normalcy yet once again.

She whispers, ‘welcome home. I’ve missed you. It’s about time you came back.’

🤍

In the past, I’ve gotten the washer and dryer spinning away within the hour, all the gear unpacked, mail sorted and read. But this time I’m moving slow. Being gentle and kind to my exhausted self. Saying an unspoken ‘no thanks’ to tidying everything in sight, rushing the return to normal, jumping right into the next thing.

I’m wrapping myself in solitude as I sift through the conversations, events, and high activity level of our family’s annual week at Camp. I’m big on sorting through the precious avalanche of memories, the big emotions, the zany antics and animated entertaining chatter of our now young adult grandkiddos, all the priceless little moments I’ve gathered up along the way.

I know what I need to do to re-emerge into the present and to do it well. This practice of routinely embracing solitude and silence in order to process life’s intracacies is one that will forever be my heartbeat.

And yes, this, the process of putting pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard. The best therapy ever.

The past month has been wild with activity and change and celebration. Endless travel. Loss and grief. Surprises that delighted . . . and a few that left me spinning sideways. A whole lot of precious family time crammed into a very small window of time. A rarity, for sure, since the 14 of us will now be spread from New England right down to South Carolina.

* sigh *

🤍

I am completely smitten and overcome with an awestruck love for our new little one. Becoming a great-grandmother was something I never thought about along the way. I’m taken back by the intensity of delight that this little one has already brought me, has brought us all. It was so obvious that each of us cherished every cuddle with the greatest enthusiasm, our new 5th generation camper patiently allowing us to pass him from arm to arm. An unspoken bonding with him and yes, maybe a bit deeper bonding with each other as well.

I love you, my little friend, with a depth that has taken my breath away.

I’m praying for you, Luke . . . and your parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins. We all had quite the week, didn’t we. None of us could get enough of you! And we’ll live on all the sweet tumbled together memories until we get to spend time in each other’s company again, whenever that might be.

God is so very good.

xo

🤍

A great-grandma's heartsong 🧸 Porch #183