Honey, I'm Home
"I'm feeling rebellious," I told Charity tonight. "Let's skip food shopping. I'll take you to Macaroni Grill."
"Well," said Charity, "I guess I could go food shopping tomorrow..."
In an effort to keep up with my little sister's busy life, I have instituted a habit of taking her out to dinner once a week, on the night when Mom and Dad have their date (read: we would be scrounging for food and not having a proper family dinner if we stayed home). These occasions are always fun, and I'm learning, piece by piece, all that I've missed about her in the last four years of college.
Tonight, the subject of dinner conversation ranged from her sketch class (she is an art major at Montgomery College) to the art of good conversation, to caring for people who are in self-destructive sin patterns. She explained to me why she always orders a lime with her coke (apparently it is a cultural byproduct of the six months that she spent in Mexico), and added our waitress's name to her collection (Charity is a waitress when in her professional capacity, and has an interest in keeping up with her colleagues). Hillary, the waitress, was a fun young lady who made our dinner enjoyable and thoroughly deserved her tip.
Ye Ancestral Domicile is quiet without Mom, Dad, and Burgee. My room is more like a seashell than ever--someday I'll post pictures--and the moment I entered it, something dropped back into place.
The last two weeks have been strained.... strained on every level, stretched and beaten and scratched and bruised. It's like coming home from the front. But the stretching was good; I think I've grown more in the last two weeks than in the four or even eight before that.
Perhaps I will be able to sleep tonight. I want to sleep. I want to heal.
I'm so glad to be home.
"Well," said Charity, "I guess I could go food shopping tomorrow..."
In an effort to keep up with my little sister's busy life, I have instituted a habit of taking her out to dinner once a week, on the night when Mom and Dad have their date (read: we would be scrounging for food and not having a proper family dinner if we stayed home). These occasions are always fun, and I'm learning, piece by piece, all that I've missed about her in the last four years of college.
Tonight, the subject of dinner conversation ranged from her sketch class (she is an art major at Montgomery College) to the art of good conversation, to caring for people who are in self-destructive sin patterns. She explained to me why she always orders a lime with her coke (apparently it is a cultural byproduct of the six months that she spent in Mexico), and added our waitress's name to her collection (Charity is a waitress when in her professional capacity, and has an interest in keeping up with her colleagues). Hillary, the waitress, was a fun young lady who made our dinner enjoyable and thoroughly deserved her tip.
Ye Ancestral Domicile is quiet without Mom, Dad, and Burgee. My room is more like a seashell than ever--someday I'll post pictures--and the moment I entered it, something dropped back into place.
The last two weeks have been strained.... strained on every level, stretched and beaten and scratched and bruised. It's like coming home from the front. But the stretching was good; I think I've grown more in the last two weeks than in the four or even eight before that.
Perhaps I will be able to sleep tonight. I want to sleep. I want to heal.
I'm so glad to be home.
posted by Praelucor at 11:17 PM
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