Quiet Observations

The plane ride was bumpy, and the kids grew concerned when the flight attendants were directed by the pilot to put down the peanuts and buckle up until the plane got through the turbulence. Usually, my heart is hammering and my stomach is rolling in moments like that. This time, I held the hands of my children and didn't think much of it. If the plane crashed, it crashed. I live for my children and they'd be with me, so... (Sorry mom & dad and siblings - I really would feel bad if you had to go through the crappiness of last week again, but you never know, right?)

The airline lost one of our bags - it stayed in Buffalo for a longer visit, apparently. So that was fun.

My friend picked us up at the airport. We greeted each other with kisses and hugs, got the kids buckled up and started for home. I didn't say much at all - just stared out the window at the gray clouds and felt nothing but the vacancy. When we pulled into the driveway, the first thing I saw beyond the brown lawn and withered front garden was bright yellow daffodils... The daffodils in my front garden had bloomed and there had to be a dozen of them - perfectly healthy. Just for me. My house seemed brighter, and my spirits lifted a little.

I walked into a clean house. My friend, Amy, brought her four year old and two year old over while I was gone and cleaned the entire house - top to bottom - laundry and all. Yeah. Not only was the house clean, but I had flowers, plants, a fruit basket, mass cards and a stack of sympathy cards waiting for me. Incredible. I cried, not out of grief, but because I am so blessed to have such good people in my life. I was dreading coming back here, but my friends care.

Then Amy reaches into another bag and pulls out a bottle of Grey Goose - "Happy Birthday, girl!" Oh yeah, we opened that in a few minutes and I watched as my kids ran around with her two kids. I sat at the table and observed them, and I observed Amy as she pulled out chicken and vegetables, reached for the spices, pots and pans and cooked dinner. Jessica showed up, ate dinner, poured a drink and they cleaned up the kitchen, like that last couple hours hadn't happened. I observed. My neighbor showed up later to check on me and brought in another pile of cards from the mailbox.

We didn't talk about Jeff much at first. For some reason, I was trying to hide the pain from them - as though I would burden them, but then I said something and they asked questions and they listened to me describe him, and the funeral and how I was feeling inside. No tears were shed, and I think that might have been because the blessings kind of helped me steady the grief.

My mom said, "Wow, you all have wonderful people in your life," after I described my homecoming. Yeah, we sure do. Mom and Dad, you did good.