Home

There are days when I am fighting mad at unjustices that seem to surround me. There are days when I cry with heartache because I feel like the only one on earth who isn't making it. There are days when I cry with overwhelming happiness because I know that I may not have everything but I have what's important: the love of God, my husband, family, and friends. And there are days like today where I look back at my entire life- from my childhood spent roaming the fields around my house and imagining all sorts of adventures to the months I spent in Colorado finding myself among the mountains and thunderstorms. It's hard to put myself back in the moments that defined me and feel the same emotions I did when they were happening. I can't feel the same excitment I did when my parents first brought home Lucky and Pumpkin, I can't feel the same heartbreak and emptiness I felt when a relationship fell to pieces and my trust in people was shattered. I can't feel the same terror and helplessness I felt when a horse came crashing down on me. But all those moments, those tiny slices of time became a part of me. They are the pieces to a bigger puzzle. When I look at each day by itself it doesn't seem to fit together, but when I start looking at the bigger picture that's forming- it finally makes sense. Everything in my past has lead me to where I am now. And where I am now is home. It has taken me a very long time to find it.

It was hard for me to seperate my idea of home from the house I grew up in. I thought that the moment it changed was when I moved back from Colorado and I felt like a guest in my own house. I couldn't understand what had changed while I was gone, but there was an emptiness- a piece was missing. The house that my memories surrounded no longer felt like home. And it's for the same reason that this tiny apartment with crazies for neighbors is my home as much as I can't wait to move out. In my first home I had all the love I needed- my family provided me uncoditional love that left my heart full. When I was out of state and realized that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with AJ was when I could never return to the same "home" again. That house that once was all I needed was suddenly lacking. I guess the saying is true- home is in fact where the heart is. My home and my heart is with AJ in this crappy little apartment that is bursting at the seams with love. Home is here, in our little corner of Carmichael. Home is in Wilton, where my parents have given and loved with all they have. Home is at my brother and sister-in-laws where I know I can be loved unconditionally. Home is love. And I love my home.

I love my oven mitt that hangs from the cupboard.

I love that I can't reach most of our dishes.

I love the bamboo that sits in the window.

I love drinking a really, really cold beer on a hot day.

I love having 5 different brews to choose from.

I love that we have 6 differnt gaming systems.

I love to play Super Mario Bros.

I love that AJ is so talented.

I love his drawings and sketches.

I love that he loves to draw comic book characters.

I love to have a busy looking fridge.

I love to leave AJ notes on the board.

I love it when he draws me pictures.

I love that our bookshelf is stacked full of books.

I love that our bookshelf has been falling apart since the day we put it together.

I love that drawing isn't AJ's only talent.

I love to listen to him play guitar.

I love that he is so passionate about art and music.

I love the music he writes on his own.

I love this picture frame.

I love this picture.

I love that I'm married to my best friend.

I love seeing this every time I walk in the door.