Why did you come back here?
Charlotte is where people try to end up!
Well, it's complicated. And yes, Charlotte was wonderful for a lot of reasons. Not the least of them the fact that the winters were so incredibly mild and short…but still decidedly winter. Husband and I are not people who do winter well. We love sun and warmth and long days. Indianapolis offers none of these things from Thanksgiving until Easter. None. Cold, snow, wet, gray, brown, dead.
But, but. There was a more compelling reason than the weather that drew me home like a siren song. Family. That one thing that shapes who you are before you have a choice in the matter.
My brothers are 21 and 16–and I didn't want to miss this time with them. They will soon be men who are off working long hours of their own, busy growing selves and families. But right now, there are still times those rare moments where they are looking for direction, support, love. Sometimes when you are busy figuring out the gray issues, discerning the blurry edges between black and white, the last person you want to see are your parents. This is where Husband and I long to come in. Providing a place of safety, a home-like environment slightly removed from those parents who know absolutely nothing about life when you are navigating between the realms of child and adult. Of course, when you reach adulthood full steam, you realize they weren't as naive as you thought. Oh, clarity.
Also, there are those people who provided Husband and I that "safe place away from home" as children. Those gray and golden giants who loved us even when our parents were fed up. They say grandparents enjoy grandchildren in a way that parents just cannot. Husband and I are lucky to still have 8 out of 8 of our grandparents living. We are batting 1000% as far as luck goes in the grandparent department. And, get this–6 out of 8 of them live within 5 miles of each other (and us)! We didn't want to be away for the twilight years of their lives when they mean so much to us. We want our boys to know the blessing of wisdom and patience that our grandparents possess.
On morning last month, my maternal grandmother called and ask if she could come over to do a craft with my boys. This woman exudes a quiet patience unlike anyone I have ever met. She taught art to inner city middle school children for years. She taught them about beauty, even when their world was far from beautiful in many ways. How could I say no to a day spent with Grammers creating, being loved on, and soaking up her patience?