Our wonderful week in Atlanta has come to a close. We’ve re-packed and begun unpacking, the long drive is finished, my toothbrush is in a familiar cup, and I’ve stopped singing In My Mind, I’m Going to Carolina. Because we’re actually here. In real life.
I have lots of thoughts to share about changing places and familiar bumper stickers, re-entry shock and how the prices at Old Navy almost make me dizzy, but for now I’ll just say I’m back in the house where I spent my first seventeen years, where I know the creaks in the staircase and where the views out every window are the most familiar views I know.
Surrounded by familiar sights and sounds and smells and tastes, I’m thankful for little things I was never thankful for before. And it’s wonderful, because it feels like home.