Writing through Cancer: For the Week of July 21, 2013: Returning “Home”

Barry and I do lot of traveling, unfortunately we haven’t had time for a trip just “for us”. Most of our traveling has been to doctors, labs, coumadin clinics, nuerology clinic’s, oncology clinics, breast specislist, and infusion centers. Those are just for Barry and I, we also handle mom’s doctor’s trips.

Eventually we have plans for ourselves, but I think we will save that for the end of the year. Somewhere quiet that feels like home. Just the two of us, always alone. Loving time together, spoiling each other. After the few years we have been through, we deserve it.

We are discussing some where to spend Christmas away from home. Might take to puppy dog with us. Who knows! Anything is possible.

Returning “home” is the project, so let me stop babbling and get to it. Although our traveling has not been for pleasure, coming home still feels like heaven.

A trip to the grocery store feels like a 10K roadrace at time. So walking back into our meager abode from any trip away from it, is a pleasure.  I love the sight of my fuzzy, velour blanket draped over the arm of my favorite chair in the living room.

Waiting by my chair is Barry’s favorite rocker/recliner. He loves to rock, it relaxes him. His favorite blanket over the arm of his chair, also. His is fuzzy, plaid. But he is so cute asleep, with it cuddled under his chin.

Waiting at home for us, usually, is our sweet little Maggie with her Boxer waggle. Walk into the house and she makes you feel like you have been gone for weeks. She loves you to pieces whether you have been gone five minutes or a week. She loves you no matter what. Unconditional love, what you give your family on a daily basis. Did the Good Lord bless man’s best friend eith such a wonderful quality?

The feeling of brings warmth and comfort over you. Relaxation sets in and the comfy clothes come out. The clothes you would not be seen in public in, along with your favorite slippers. No matter how ratty. In “The Wizard of Oz”, Dorothy could have not said it better with “there is no place like home, there is no place like home”. There is truly, no place like home. Even without ruby red slippers to get you there.