Becoming Home

I am becoming the home that I used to miss. It occurred to me today on my way home from my Callie Time that Thanksgiving had passed without tears and the preparations for Christmas do not have that gray spot in them. There isn't the sadness that comes from me missing home this time of year. Home was never a house, it was people. It was Grandma and Grandpa, Mom and Dad and all the trimmings - aunts, uncles cousins, neighbors stopping by. All that Iowa stuff that I never figured out how to recreate in California. And I never got over it. Even in the hustle and bustle of raising babies and getting educated and finding jobs I never got over missing the memory of home. It was one of the few things I could never figure out - why didn't it get easier as the years went by. I've been in California 34 years and the hole was always there. I don't ever remember a Thanksgiving passing without feeling teary and lamenting the smell of Grandma's kitchen, the steamy windows and the love, all that love that surrounded me. This year I was just surrounded by the spirit of Grandma without the sadness. And today I got it. I am now the grandma creating those smells and tastes for this new generation. I have moved down a branch on the family tree. It's funny how I keep getting these new awakenings and every one of them takes me by surprise and leaves me with a smile. Life just keeps getting better and better.