Well I’m home and missing the grandchild as well as his parents.
It does feel good to be home though. My own bed and no late night screams for food. (Not that I had to wake for that part of it.)
I’m not good at leaving my comfort zone. I can and do leave it. But I don’t like it. And when I have to go on a trip, I bring way too much stuff. (Although I did pack lighter and used all but two things this time around.)
For me ‘home’ is more then a place to hang my hat. It is an escape from the big bad world. It’s not the things in it, it is the things that are not here.
No ridicule of the way I dress. No one dictating the way things are done. No following others schedule. No missing my TV shows. No putting up with food not to my liking.
Not that going to my daughter house is like that. Because it is not. In fact they try hard to make thing nice for me. From fresh flowers in my room to special food in the house just for me.
But no matter how many nice things that surround me else where. There is no place like home for me. I can be totally myself at home. Even if the self I am, is the one that is missing my grandson.
No real worries though, I passed the torch to his other grandma. Not that they couldn’t handle it, but no one does as well on too little sleep.
And I’m now sleeping through the night in my own bed. There is no place like home.