1 month ago
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Three weeks to the day of getting home from Seattle, I sat in the kitchen at the table and strangely enough kept sitting for a while instead of jumping up to what was next on my list. There was blissfully nothing on my schedule that day except perhaps the most important item -- processing a bite more of what has happened. Let the dust settle, take a breath from reclaiming a household, reuniting with family and friends, starting school for the children, being home. I got still enough to cry. And, in the crying, I sensed the multitude of prayers, the crowds of people who got me this far.