Back in the hills of East Tennessee the past four days found me practically brain dead - But that's a good thing.
Mama and Daddy and I just hung out - no kids (or Mike) wanting to go anywhere. Nothing I needed to do. Too overcast to swim. Too hot to be out in the yard. We went out to eat for their 53rd wedding anniversary with my brother one night. The other nights Mama cooked okra and squash and Daddy barbequed. We met my one goal of having lunch at a friends place in downtown Kingston (Gibson Girls is in an pre-civil war house and lunch there was wonderful.)
But mostly we sat and talked and watched TV and talked and watched TV. I took my crocheting because that was my plan for the week - sit, talk, watch TV and crochet.
My family is the most stress-free zone you can imagine.
But I was still glad to get back home to Marietta yesterday. My mama has often said she's so happy her kids like going back to their own homes. That everyone should want to go home. When the kids were little and would go to stay a week with Grandma and Grandpa she said she wanted them to like her house, but wanted them to want to go back home. She said through the years she'd heard other grandparents brag that the grandkids liked grandma and grandpa's home more than their own home.
Mama didn't like that.
It is quite a gift to want to go home, isn't it? To want to be where you live. To want to be in the life you are living. Shouldn't a vacation, or time a way, be a time to reinforce how much you want to be at home? How much you love the life you're living?
And if going home's not a good thing - shouldn't that be a sign changes need to be made? or maybe just attitudes adjusted?