Going Home

Having spent another night here last night, I was more than ready to go home. "Going home" all of a sudden sounded so nice, like looking forward to a warm bath after a long day working, in a spa-styled bathtub--all by yourself.

Although the fires are still burning (and God only knows for how much longer,) we will be going home today. I'm sure we won't be able to walk around our neighborhood consuming clean air for the next few days, we are going home.

Home, sweet home. All of a sudden the idea of being stuck in our little condo all day is not so bad anymore. No computer? No problem. At least I get to watch our TV, lay on our couch, open our fridge, using our water, sit on our toilet. I can watch (and try to enjoy) Caleb dumping all his toys all over the oh-so-small living room, and Abby sitting in her Excersaucer while drooling all over her toys. I'm thankful to go home, a place I thought I would never see again.

Unfortunately, there are people out there who have lost everything. While I celebrate and count my blessings, I cannot and do not want to forget that for those people who have lost their homes, there would be no Holiday get-togethers this year, there would be no Christmas trees to decorate, and every memory that each person holds so dearly have been buried along with their home remains. While I am glad and happy that my two children have a home to return to, there are parents out there who cannot tell their children, "let's go home." Perhaps for a long, long time.

In the end, I have learned to enjoy everything that I have--even though they are small, even though there are no cash value to them. When I do walk in to our small home later today, I think I will pause a few seconds, and just be really grateful that the life Benny and I have built together for the past few years is simple, yet no money can ever buy, nothing can ever trade with.