We’ll have to repaint the downstairs bathroom and restock the laundry supplies. I’m missing a few pairs of socks and I found a dirty coffee mug stuck under the family room couch.
Our gas tanks are empty, but our hearts are full.
For a glorious stretch, we had all four of our kids at home.
Our creaky house likes it best when all of its rooms are full, when piles of shoes clutter its doorways and dishes clatter at all hours in the kitchen.
And so do we.
Ours cars enjoy the extended travel — countless trips to the grocery store, coffee runs, family night at the movie theatre.
And so do we.
Our couches like the flopping, the blanket-wrapped sprawl, the passionate debates over who answered the Jeopardy question first.
And so do we.
Our sidewalks savor the extra feet, the long walks, the thorough shovel, the steady jog.
And so do we.
They’ve all scattered now, back to busy lives we’re thrilled they lead. They’ve checked in from their various ports, letting us know they arrived home safely. It will be a while before we’re all together again under the same roof. They texted us that they’re grateful for the family time. They look forward to the next time we can all hang out.
And so do we.
