A place called home

It's Sunday afternoon. The first Sunday in Spring. I woke up at 10:20 a.m. I hardly ever sleep in, so that was quite a treat. And then I woke up to the sunshine. Even better. I stepped out on the porch while letting the pup out and my feet soaked up the warmed concrete and I gazed at the grass as it struggled to turn green.

It seems I've returned to that apprehension phase. Anxiety of where to go, what to do, not having a clue. Limbo. No home, trying to realize that home is in my heart. The dominoes are still upright. As if all of them refuse to fall. I'm trying hard not to let myself be frustrated. Patience is not a virtue of mine. I suppose this is my great lesson.

I had a vision today of my garden. I guess it was the spring like weather that brought it on. I stood at the edge of my garden and tears rolled down my face. I had a couple of people beside me. I was sharing. They were supporting and each of them understood why I had tears rolling down my cheeks. And then I walked over to a woman (my future "MIL") and I grabbed her hand and let her stand beside me at my garden. My husband was there. Not the STBX, but my future husband and he wiped away the tears and looked over my garden with pride and respect.

It was just the spring like weather and the knowledge that my life is proceeding not returning.

I will gather my strength and my pride and I will wait patiently. Trusting the process. I know it's coming soon, but I suppose there are a few more things to learn before then.

Home is in my heart.