I took this picture yesterday morning, the day after Mother’s Day as I had this moment of intense joy, and satisfaction.
This is my house. This is my home. This is where I’m raising my family.
For our Mother’s Day dinner, I pulled out the Waterford stemware (only the second time since moving back into the house after the remodel… the first was the night of Mac’s birthday dinner) and we sat at the dining table and had a meal with a fine French linen table cloth and my best china. The dinner was lovely but it was the morning after when the drying dishes were still sitting there on the counter that I felt peace. Truly at home in my house. More at home with me.
It’s been a long time coming.
It’s been a couple very hard years.
I count my blessings–all the time–but it doesn’t always mean things are easy or feel good. It doesn’t always mean I feel good. But I’ve worked at getting stronger and happier. I’ve worked at getting my head in the right place. Working at confronting fear and failure and sadness. Working at me, I guess, and working at being a better mother, lover, partner, person.
But this photograph… it’s what I turned and saw and for a moment everything was right in my world. My favorite crystal. My baby’s bottles. Flowers in a vase.
It’s just a little thing. But sometimes the littlest thing is everything.