Because I'm still in Galway

My bedroom door

Remember when I said I needed some time to be still?  Well, I found it.

My little nook

Whew.  And now I feel able to think a little more clearly.


It has been so, so relieving to be home.  I've shared coffee and hugs with my mother - oh, many hugs.  I've played cars with my brother on the floor at CVS while Mum picked up school project supplies.  I've unzipped my guitar case for the first time in too long.  My fingertips are raw, but in that terrific kind of way.  I've realized, after four months of cycling through the same clothes, that my wardrobe is unreasonably full.  It's time for a deep clean.

I've also realized that I miss Galway.  What?

It's the people.  I miss them.  Does that make me ungrateful?  Cowardly?  Honest?  For months, I've longed - sincerely - to be home.  How is it that mere days after getting my wish, I'm raring to head for the hills?

Part of this is simply the way I handle transitions, I think.  (I'm one of those rare birds who doesn't like change.  Strange, I know.)  A larger part of it, though, is that I returned to an undecorated house.

This is where the longest garlands should be wound.

And this is where the tree should be standing.

This is where Christmas should be whole and lit up and redeemed and beautiful...but instead, is tree-less and quiet and blatantly brokenhearted-upside-down-wrong.  How am I supposed to celebrate a birth when death is a huge God-forsaken elephant trampling through the room?

I left.  I returned.  And I changed.  Out of necessity, I grew accustomed to being (physically) alone...to handling grief within the confines of my apartment.  I was blessed with dear friends who did all they could to walk with me...but for every moment I spent with them, I spent five on my own, crying over milk and lashing out at this "new normal".  I did so much of it on my own!

I'm no longer physically alone...so it's tempting to keep my weakness between me and God, because it's just embarrassing.

I'm no longer physically alone...but as far as my heart is concerned, I'm still in Galway.  How do I come home?