Home is my favorite hippie mint and rosemary soap washing off a day of trouble. It's two toddlers pushing two lovers to opposite sides of sleepy oblivion at 3 a.m. It's the smell of my husband's hair as I drift off to sleep and the beautiful familiarity of my own messes all around me. Home is letting your phone run out of battery and sleeping until the kids wake you up to help them put their costumes back on the morning after Halloween.
I've had a heavy burden, too much for these shoulders to carry. I am worn out, sad, gloomy. Sara Groves tunes carry me back to the Throne for a quick drink and a long cry most days. Today, it's good to be home.