We headed out last night for a bit of trick-or-treating. It’s always fun to see all the neighborhood kids dressed up in their costumes and to visit all the decked out houses. And by neighborhood, of course, I mean our old neighborhood, just slightly west of our neighborhood. Yes, we trick-or-treat there. Then we come home and hit all four houses on our block that have their lights on.
And it’s okay. I love our neighborhood for different reasons, like the DeBoers, the Woodruffs and the Richters and for the warm fires in their driveway and the “flair” they let me borrow Saturday night.
Congratulations, Matt and Danielle. Marley is beautiful. I hope you’re all out of the hospital and adjusting to life on the outside.
I read this post today that reminded me of me, of the me I used to be and still very much am.
It made me recall days spent on my parents’ roof with a journal or a book, of all the times I locked myself in my room to avoid the six other people living in the house.
I thought of how I would skip lunch so that I could sit in the stairwell of my high school without any of the 3,000 other people around, as they were all either in class or at lunch. By the math classrooms where the light comes in from the west-facing window.
Reflecting on that nasty habit I have of pushing people away, I remember the desire to be accepted is strong, but the freedom that comes from being me by myself can fuel my spirit.
And as I type this, I’m secretly happy that my children are all sleeping soundly, my husband off playing for the weekend, and I am allowed to just be here tonight as myself. Just me. Alone.