Homecoming...

Each day I feel myself growing stronger and more comfortable with the power that I once took for granted. Yes, power. Many people will not understand what I'm talking about and I won't go into detail here, but I can feel the strength of it returning. In my muscles, in my breath, in my dreams, in my will. Why did I let it go so many years ago? For reasons that no longer make sense. For reasons I look at now and shake my head about.

I don't feel a need to write each day in here, partly because I'm doing so much other writing. I'm keeping two journals lately, one that I will burn when the time is right and one that will stay with me through the years. The first one is filled with the anguish and anger I'm releasing. In it, I pour out words that would cut and scar the people I'm angry with. These are words that would be remembered for decades and would be so very hard to forgive. These are words that, I know, would make it impossible to remain friends, much less anything more than that. Am I a coward for not telling the people how I feel? Some might think so, but they didn't know me when the Rage took over and I cut loved ones left and right. I've grown past the point of letting the heat spill out and onto those around me, but I've learned that I am not so wise that I no longer feel that acrimony.

The anguish? That stems from the fear of things I can not control. It also comes from the feelings that there were people once who accepted me for all that I was. I miss them more than words can describe. Yes, I miss others who are no longer walking this earth, but they never came to accept me, even though I was of their blood. On my own journey, I'm learning to let go of the hurt. It's not an easy thing, letting go of a lifetime of exclusion. For the most part, the people I currently choose to have in my life have accepted me completely. There are still a few who only seem to accept me if I fit into who they think I am, and when I don't fit into their tiny box, there are conflicts. Those conflicts can cause pain, especially when I care for the person. Still, they need to know that I do not fit into their view of the world. Knowing that I would rather let them go, than to squeeze into that narrowness again is painful.

I know that the ones who mean the most to me do accept me. Well, mostly. I know my Dad is still trying, and I know his heart is wholly open to learning who I am. That means a lot. The others? My children? Kevin? My best friends? They see me in the Light and the Shadows and love me all the more.

-

The day is getting closer to Anthony's arrival. I can write of it here simply because this won't even be published until after he's here. We're going to watch it at my place early Saturday morning. Yes, yes, I know it will most likely be a non-event and I probably won't even be able to tell which one is Anthony, but in my heart I will know that he's getting off that plane. I will know that one of those young men will be my son returning to the US. I can't even begin to tell you how special that is.

-

The house is quiet right now. Anthony left Afghanistan two days ago and I haven't heard from him since. I'm not worried, though. I know that he won't have access to the internet or anything else like that for a while.

There is an expectation hovering around me. I can feel it rising and falling with the hours. I am hoping that sleep will not be elusive. I don't feel tired, but I know that I need to rest. I think I'll read in bed for a while. And breathe.

-

So, I just got an email saying that Anthony is in Kyrgyszstan (that's the name on the map). That still is so far away! And he's supposed to arrive in the morning?! How is that possible?

-

I was right about the non-event yesterday, but Anthony called around 9 in the morning and we talked for a while. It was so good to hear his voice without the delay as the call was sent around the globe. I felt pretty good about not being overly emotional about it all throughout the day. There were texts from family sent to Anthony, postings on Ravelry and Facebook, emails, love sent out... The day was filled with love. I'm not sure how I would have handled it all if I'd been alone. Having someone here to help me stay grounded probably did more to settle my emotions than anything else.

Tonight I'm ready to fall asleep long before I should be. Today was relaxing and quiet. The only real work was moving a bed. I did send a text to April & Kam for their half- and full-marathons and part of me wishes I could have been there to cheer them on, but I think they knew that I was thinking about them both. The rest of the day was just... mellow. And yet, I feel a need to crawl into bed and sleep for days. Maybe it is just the relief of knowing that Anthony is finally back. Maybe it is just the release of that tension that has been with me since August. I hope that's all it is.

Tomorrow will be a beautiful Monday.

-

I found out that Anthony won't be home until the end of the month. Ugh. Still, I am happy that so many things were taken care of in such a short time.

Today I spent a portion of my time trying out new colors in the kitchen. Pacasha & I are already planning this month's PS... color and I can't wait to get started on it. I'll be dyeing them tomorrow and hopefully getting them completely ready to go before Friday. In the meantime, I'm also dyeing extra skeins for the Tour-de-Sock. Will this be an annual event? Perhaps. I am looking forward to seeing everyone's new socks this year. I'm also working on extra skeins for the SAFF. I know that's still a long way off, but I'd rather start now instead of rushing later.

Tomorrow I'll be making a new batch of laundry soap. Yes, I do that. I like doing things like that for myself. I know it's so much easier picking up a bottle at the store, but I never claimed to do things the easy way. I'm looking forward to the day when I will have hens again, too. They made me laugh and I miss watching them run across the yard with their waddle, while trying to keep hold of the worm or small snake they'd found before the others could snatch it away.

I remind myself that it will be just a little more time.