We have sunshine, and I headed out into the yard to check damage, and re-orient what's moved in the storms. Ice filled all outside bowls.
Our son Chris and his wife Frieda will be home Tuesday. Their computers have arrived by Federal Express. I got a notice this morning that their other ten boxes are in Kentucky being cleared before they arrive here. It's beginning to feel real that they return after fifteen months away. Their last two weeks have been enjoyed exploring Austria, Hungary, and Romania. They're out of touch this week.
I'm with this question of attachment and letting go. I can say I've been okay with them being gone, and that is true, and I feel like mole in Wind in the Willows when he picked up the scent of his home. All is feeling more right with the world, as I think of their return. I gave them two redwood sprouts when they were married, and they've been planted in a pot, and growing here while they're gone. Today, I moved them to the front door. Welcome home, I say. Welcome home, and perhaps I say that to something in myself too. Welcome home. It's warm inside, and something brews, sacred, true, and new.