After an unexpectedly long day we drive home from my inlaws, in the darkness accompanied by three year old conversations about our favorite parts of the day. Notably missing are words about the total six hours spent driving, the time spent in the ER by my husband (who is fine... but wanted to get checked out due to chest pain (!!!) from his three weeks of coughing and congestion... ) and my quick exit from the house in the woods upon a phone call at lunch time, the promises of a quick return that were thankfully granted.
Paige has fallen asleep, but we know her favorite parts of the day included sweet and sour meatballs and endless amounts of fruit salad. Dirty feet beneath even dirtier Mary Jane's. Smiles and sunshine and sand tables.
Fynn tells us all of his favorites: how Grandma took good care of him, the sand box, the swing, and ice cream.
Lucas says gently that his favorite part was the surprise visit to his parents after the hospital visit. Getting to play with the kids at his old home.
We're almost home and we're finally silent, the weight of the day on our shoulders and the darkness hinting at dreams to come and I'm feeling weary. I and Love and You by the Avett Brothers comes on the radio and fills the Volvo from the front seats to the way back where a beach wagon sways from side to side with each turn we take. I nod and say I like it. We sit with the soft melody and the strong words. All quiet.
The song, to me, is about addiction {it might not be intended that way, but to me, it is} The choices, the healing, the process. Cutting ties to make it right, cutting ties to the old to make the new, the now, possible. Creating change. Loving, coming home, and redemption. And the more I listen, the more it sinks in with each quiet, peaceful note. The healing and love written just for me, it seems, overwhelms me.
From the backseat Fynn says sleepily I like this song...
This comes from the little boy who has only ever acknowledged liking Heard it Through the Grapevine and the Curious George soundtrack by Jack Johnson.
But he likes this song.
I choke out a Me too, baby as I feel that pain in the back of my throat starting from stifled tears.
And we drive the last two minutes home in hushed moments of knowing.
We like this place. This sober Mommy. The crazy days with unexpected twists and turns. Meltdowns and running into each others arms. Coming home and being filled to the brim with love and acceptance.
Knowing that healing is taking place.
That is my favorite part of the day.