Tearing myself away to go home is never easy. I miss my brothers and their families the moment I begin to pack for the trip home. I couldn’t not stop and say goodbye. He made me breakfast and I was grateful for a few moments with him. There are never enough of those.


The drive home was slow. The torrential rain made it even tougher, but I was pleased to move at my own pace and stop as I needed to. Home was welcoming. I unpacked one bag and started another. It’s going to be a busy summer.

I miss them. I miss them daily. I know I drive them nuts. I know that often I don’t get it right, but I do love them all. I do think of them all the time.


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