We just returned from a world-wind adventure of land and air to reunite our family. My husband and I appreciated our lovely five-day romantic and reflective stint without our kids, but admittedly into day six, with hugs, laughter, and smiles, we were reminded how much we missed them. And after two flights and an eight-hour drive, which was actually more like ten hours because of all the toddler and pregnancy stops, we made it home in one piece, and altogether fell out in our beds from exhaustion and travel. And as we peeled away the luggage and remnants of a long road trip back to our normal hectic lives, I stood for a moment in the doorway, watched my little ones sleeping, smiled at our togetherness, breathed.
This morning when the alarm went off, the husband and I were in a cloud, a daze of slow stutter as we rose to shape the day, wash off the long night before. We both darted and danced in the bathroom, our usual twists and turns covered with bits and pieces of the past week as we had each other to ourselves. We were paying attention, we were thoughtful and in the moment. I hope we remember to do this often; even with the kids back in our midst. This morning that quiet we had grown accustomed to (even if just for a few days) lingered for just a bit longer. This is how love goes and I imagine if we keep this up, how it also grows.