For the last two nights I slept sandwiched between my two kids in my childhood bed, in my old room, in my parents' home.
Surreal, I tell ya.
In the wee hours, when the little bed hogs kept me awake as they claimed more of the bed, I thought of the girl who grew up in that room and the hopes and dreams she cultivated in that space. I thought of how she could have never dreamed the perfect grandness of that exact moment; sleepless and grateful, snuggled between my Swedish-American daughter and my Ethiopian son. Never in her wildest dreams could she have dreamed up my reality.
Humbled and grateful.
Surreal, I tell ya.
In the wee hours, when the little bed hogs kept me awake as they claimed more of the bed, I thought of the girl who grew up in that room and the hopes and dreams she cultivated in that space. I thought of how she could have never dreamed the perfect grandness of that exact moment; sleepless and grateful, snuggled between my Swedish-American daughter and my Ethiopian son. Never in her wildest dreams could she have dreamed up my reality.
Humbled and grateful.
