When your boy comes home.

It's a happy week.....and I'm a happy mom.
because my boy is home from college, for the week only, but I'll take it.

 Here is what you remember when one of your son's come home again, these things that so easily you forget in the hustle and crazy of everyday life:

That it feels so good to hug him, to feel him solid and sure and there; instead of crackling over a dropping cell phone connection or a glitchy skype feed.

That you never do expect to feel that blink of tears,
or that gasp of recognition, "There he is!"
just because he's walked into your kitchen with a big eager grin.
That that big grin and quick step to hug you means everything.

That he looks good - that he's growing up even as you can see the small changes now, in your kitchen, but that it is settling on him well.

That  you really think its a great dance to see the hubub of siblings all talking at the same time and twisting around each other to get plates and milk and it doesn't matter that it's late and the kitchen is getting messy again and the windows are dark and it's way past bedtime.
That standing around the kitchen counters and between the bags and stalling bedtime is just the best thing to do on a late Sunday night, when a boy comes home again.
That you really really enjoy watching him eat cake and soak in the hubub of his house, again.

That you love to cook for your kids who love to eat.
That is a treat to cook a Halloween supper a week in advance; upon personal request.
That brisket cooking on the stove is a smell of love and happy.
And that homemade chili and cornbread, pumpkin pie and goofy little mini wrapped hotdogs wrapped mean home.

That even bandaging him up, now all big and growing up as a man, is still a privilege and a way to be a hands on mom {and he is kind enough to ask me to do it}.
That bandaging up his elbow will make me think of all the reckless hurts he's had, that I've bandaged, on this daredevil boy and maybe make me blink hard for a minute.
That making the house a home for this week is important and it's not only for this boy, on his return.....
But it's important for the family.
It's important for his brothers and sisters to see that welcome and that soaking right back into the family.
It's for me.
It's where the joy is...in the small things...the things that matter in that quiet sink in sort of way.

So today I remember the beauty in the red pot simmering on the stove,
in the bowl of apples,
in the bandages,
and in the folding of clean shirts.
And I see it fresh, for a moment, in the heart of this home, his home, that he returns to with a grin and a sigh and a "It's really really good to be home."

Yeah.  It is.