I'm here, I'm home.

I like the sound of the planes as they fly overhead; it’s a comforting sound.  Not loud and obnoxious, just far enough away that it’s novel.  Mixed with the seagulls and occasional ferry horns, this new place we call home feels majestic to me. Though we’ve been here a year already, I don’t seem to tire of the salt air that greets me as I pull into the driveway.  Some days stronger than others, it’s a sweet reminder of how lucky I feel.   It’s like the daily nudge that says, “Hey…you’re here – right where you’ve always wanted to be.”  

That’s how I feel as my family and friends board their planes and make their way across the country to join us for our upcoming wedding.  Marking a day on the calendar and preparing to declare your love for another person has a way of putting things into perspective.   You think about where you are and how you got here. 

I glanced out over the water today as I folded laundry in our bedroom.  I stood there for a moment in between the ritual of folding and pairing socks and I watched the sailboats tick by slowly.  The waters were calm and you could here the conversations of the passengers.  It made me smile to hear their voices.   I walked closer to the window to open it wider and the gentle cool air wafted in, the sun was shining in on the new floor boards at my feet and I thought – wow, I can’t believe I get to wake up here every day.  Folding laundry didn’t feel like a task in that moment, I barely even noticed I was doing it.

I’ve been warned that this Zen feeling of contentment and joy may wear off.  I’ve been told that tending to the details of planning a wedding and hosting it at our home may rob me of my sanity, but I’m not sure I believe that.   Knowing I get to share this place with my husband-to-be, our children and all the people travelling to share in our day makes me just plain happy.  I can't wait to see what the future holds for us as we build our life here together.