“Look at us, said the violets blooming at her feet, all last winter we slept in the seeming death but at the right time God awakened us, and here we are to comfort you.”

Edward Payson Roe

I am heading for home today.  My visit with family done, I will return to my sweetheart and all the friends and family who are part of my life at home.  I have put them on hold for five days, a luxury that grows out of the gift of time my loved ones have offered me so that I could see my parents and my brother and sisters.  Although I know their life has gone on in my absence, for me it feels as though they have been waiting in a state of suspended animation until the time I walk through the door.

I think about the seasons of life as I move closer and closer to home.  I think about the separate world I have inhabited while my usual life has slept.  It reminds me of the solitude of winter, when the snow-covered land lies sleeping under its white blanket in a muffled world that is more dreamlike than real.  I think of the way I feel on those quiet winter days when it seems that I am the only being still warm and living and breathing in the midst of a frozen world.  I feel that sensation now, my longing for home making me painfully aware that in the dreamless sleep of winter I have forgotten how much I love the place I now return to.

As the distance shortens, I think of the violets of Spring and the way they do appear at just the right moment and bring us joy and comfort as we return to life after our long winter’s sleep.  I round the corner that leads to my house and jump out of the car.  I see my garden patch in the back yard and think of how wonderful it will be to see this year’s vegetables begin to sprout.  I think of the garden I call “family” and imagine that I carry with me a watering can.  I open the door, listen for familiar sounds, and call out, “I’m home!”