Today, I am thankful for homecomings.
T greets us enthusiastically when we return from our trip to Denver to visit Tom. He grabs old "squishy" ball with his mouth before racing around the backyard at full speed. S and I clap our hands enthusiastically as T deftly circles my gardens, negotiates tight corners, and bounds up the sloping yard like a canine Marcus Allen.
My thoughts, still unsettled after visiting Tom, swirl with concerns. Among other things, I replay Tom's continuing difficulty communicating with us verbally, his ongoing frustration with confinement and therapy, his anger at having to wear a seat belt when he uses the wheelchair, his very short attention span, his lack of self-awareness. My worries obscure the fact that he is improving, that during our weekly visits we see healing, progress and restoration. Still, Tom doesn't remember anything from our shared history and that bothers me.
But, I'm home now. And, it's T-time. I look into his big golden eyes and ask if he missed us. T's vigorous tail wags and slobbery kisses tell me that, despite the fact that he hates being home alone, he's forgiven us.
My parents are home. All is well. Treats abound. Life is good. It's time for a walk.
For this blessing, I am grateful.