This past Sunday found us plan free, as is our usual and a good day of park hopping ensued.
Hour three of our excursion found us back in our old neighbourhood, at our old park, just three houses away from our old home.
I penned these words as I sat on the grass, watching my youngest boy play and make new friends at the same place in which my oldest so loved just years earlier.
So many memories steeped in this park, in these lands and goodness, how they caught me off guard as we pulled up.
This was the home where my husband lived when we first met. The one I convinced him to show me around on our first date, where I fell in love with the lusciousness of the carpet with thick underpadding and surely left him thinking I was the oddest girl in the world.
The home where cancer found me and lived within the walls of my body for a time. The home where I laid in bed that one long summer, windows open with the soft breeze blowing throughout, listening to the children laugh and play, my soul disconnecting from my body in those moments and flying free to exist in a space free of the pain.
The home where we married two short months after I was told I was cancer free.
The home where we didn't know what lay ahead in our future but I was alive and that seemed to be all that mattered.
The home where we laughed, cried, danced, cheered, fought, grew - oh how we grew; and most importantly, the home where we grew our fiery surprise Cancerian boy. The one we were told I could never conceive. The one who shook our world and made us question everything we knew about ourselves, life, growth, adaptation, kindness and who through his laugh could light the heavens.
This home and place: a stepping stone, catalyst and gateway to all of the best, most beautiful and soul crushing, expanding and transforming aspects of my life.
The joy and sorrow I feel in my bones at the memories this place holds are enough to feel like they may crush me. It's the most perfect culmination of a time long, yet not so long ago and one that I hope I never forget.
This place, this land, still somehow feels just like home to me and I wonder if it always will.