Sunday Afternoon

I had never felt more at home than I did then. Standing in the middle of a big family affair for people who were nowhere near genetically mine. The house had become a revolving door of guests all coming and going at once. Conversations laying over onto one another lazily in the fall sunlight that late Sunday afternoon. Feeling home had been a sensation of my past. I had never thought I'd find that same warmth of being where I belonged again like I had before and lost so abruptly. I suppose home is more about where you are loved than anything else. And I was. Even having never seen some of their faces before I didn't feel lost for once, but blended. Everyone was beaming with having so much to be happy about curled up into the heart of one home. Generations of family and warm friends sprawled across the tile floor munching on sandwiches and chips. It was almost enough to bask in. And I did, closing my eyes letting it all sink in like perpetual sunshine in the form of laughter and community. I could not have been more grateful for that farewell occasion. To stand in the crowd and be firmly myself but fade into everyone else. It felt good to be home and even better to be loved.


Chantell,
xoxo