It is the morning of the second day back in my little cottage by the lake in Michigan. I have slept deeply, with contentment, as if the very walls and sugurpine floorboards welcomed me back.

Though my name is still on the deed, when I left it to my then 22 year old son 5 years ago and moved to Maryland with my youngest son I knew I had passed the baton of ownership on. I walked my gardens and caressed my lilac tree and rested my cheek against the hundred year old maple in the backyard. Deep inside I knew it was time to journey on.

And here I am, home but not home, because my son and his wife and her two children and their baby they made together have loved this little house into a sanctuary of their own design.

They honor me as a respected Mother, and greeted me with homemade cookies and sweet smelling sheets and the arms of my grandchildren.

It has just occurred to me that there is a reason that we all get along so well~my son is a Pisces, my daughter in law a Scorpio, my grandaughter a Scorpio, my two grandsons Cancers, and me? I'm a Cancerian too.

There is a synchronicity and flow to our relationships that is as soothing as a calm still lake.

Tomorrow I will head home to Maryland and only the crashing of the sea with its ebb and flow and endless horizon will catch my tears.

I don't want to leave this family of my heart.

I find it amazing that I am sitting in the Philly airport writing on my laptop. Now I know how my grandmother must have felt with those newfangled cars and the advent of electricity and the telephone.

All around me people have computers and phones and gadjets hanging off of their bodies.

It feels eerie in here...no music at all, just the vibration and growl of the jets out the wall of windows. I don't see very many smiles on faces either, but I can hear all the thoughts constantly spinning in their heads.

Seems like a perfect time for a little sneaky breathing pick me up....

The morning didn't go so well...as a matter of fact I missed my early flight. I could blame my son for not coming home all night and then finally showing up redeyed and goofy after a night of partying, but when you start to take responsibiity for all your experiences it just doesn't have the same zing to it.

I went up to the ticket counter anyway, and the man put me on the next flight for free. I'll arrive 5 hours later, but I'll still arrive:)

An hour ago I had myself all cosy tucked into a corner of the airport, playing solataire and drinking coffee. There was a tiny Muslim woman dressed all in black and she asked me if I was going to Portland. I thought she was lost, but it turned out she was an airport employee. A few minutes later I heard her arguing politely with an elderly woman in a wheelchair. Apparently she had missed her flight, and she was blaming the Muslim woman for not having the plane back up to let her on!
She insisted that the employee give her money for food at the very least, and she said she was depressed and hungry.

Everybody within earshot was very careful to pretend they couldn't see or hear the two women verbally duking it out.

I didn't have enough money to give her, but I had a bag of nuts and m&m's. I got up and said "here. you're hungry. This will help." She looked at me in amazement as I opened up the bag.

Moral of the story: She was just plain hungry and scared and alone. It was so easy to reach out to her.

Oh boy I get to board in half an hour!

See you later:)

Today is misty and cool with bare trees topped with redbuds and white pear blossoms getting ready to burst.

I'm getting ready to burst too. Saturday morning before sunrise I'll be at the airport, ready to fly home to Michigan to see my firstborn grandbaby.

This has been a yearning for almost 2 years now, as he'll be 2 in July.

My son and his incredible woman bought me a ticket with their tax return! It was completely unexpected, and work and home and time seemed to flow effortlessly to make the trip happen.

All I have left to do is attend a company gathering this evening, go to work tomorrow morning, and dress up as a mysterious gypsy and read tarot cards for the local parrothead fundraiser tomorrow night. I like to play dressup and read cards, so it ought to be fun.

Then into the sky and into my family's arms!!! I'm so thankful I can feel my heart swelling in my chest.

Somewhere in the middle of the presence process I became fascinated with the game of Solitaire. I now think that in itself is hilarious, because solitaire, of course, is a game played by and for oneself!

Astonishingly, I would win game after game until the point became not how many times I won, but how fast.

It then became a game a game of strategy and I forgot to check my time score. Even the winning lost its luster as I realized it was the game itself I enjoyed.

The cards started to impact me with symbolism..~if there was a dearth of Queens, I know I wasn’t getting anywhere with no mommas in the picture. Kings became dads and jacks became sons and daughters. All had important roles to play and unless they were there the game was over.

Even the number cards started to weave themselves into endless patterns of interconnectedness.

I know I am on to something here.

In the meantime, Solitaire, anyone?