and somehow, for some reason that meant something to me; coming home to their faces in photograph, staring at me through parted curtains, as we pulled up into the driveway.
Because in that moment, I knew it to be symbolic of what I was coming home to; the summation of my purpose in these latest years.
Yet that in itself- the whole problem of it-seemed so foreign, as if surely I had moved past that summary of my being.
And that felt like a good thing....