He's home.
The bed that was too big last week is suddenly so much smaller.
The house that was blissfully quiet is loud again. There are too many voices.
3 was the magic number. 4 seems crowded.
But he's home.
He's exhausted. 4 weeks of hospital nights have taken their toll.
His breath comes in shallow snorts, marking the passing of the evening as he sleeps deeply.
But he's home.
After almost 7 years of marriage and 13 years together, being apart was tough.
But surprisingly refreshing.
It was a reminder. To count my blessings. To hold my soulmate tight. To remember what I love about him. Why I love him.
And I do. I truly do.
Home truly is where the heart is.
Ramblings, musings, insights and general hullabaloo about life with 2 small boys, our quest to move back to Scotland and the joy of cake.
Ah, what a rough ride you've had. Gosh, and a long time apart too. Hold him tight. And have a glass of something too! xx
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