Last year, I was battling the flu for the first few days of break.
I ended up with a few hours of time with friends, but I was mostly either sleeping or studying.
This year, I've been perfectly healthy. I've spent almost no time with friends, and I don't feel as sad about that as I wish I did.
I love my friends. I miss them. I wish I was home more to be around them.
But this semester has cost me more social energy than I've had to spend. I'm overdrawn, and instead of a $25 fee, I'm paying in solitary recovery time.
To my dear friends from Fort Wayne who might be reading this, I apologize. I have neglected text messages, stayed home alone when I could be out with you, and more or less hidden from all social activity.
The introvert in me needed this week to save up for the rest of the semester.
I will be home this summer, and possibly after that. We will have time.
I'm sitting in my brother and sister-in-law's apartment in downtown Chicago.
It is 12:19am here, while my poor body thinks it's 1:19. I will certainly be able to sleep as soon as I finish this post and shut my computer down, but I'm still a college student and can pull an all-nighter if I need to.
We arrived around 7:30 and spent the evening eating dinner and talking. Mom and Andrew baked an apple pie to eat tomorrow night with homemade ice cream. Yes, my brother and I share a love of cooking and baking. I always wanted to be just like him, and now that we're becoming adults separately, I can see that we're more alike than we ever knew. I didn't need to try; I just needed to wait. And I love these times that we all get to spend together like this.
While the pie was in the oven, we sat in the living room. There were conversations that included two or three or five of us. We talked about our lives, where Allie is applying, what Andrew's clients are doing, how Mom feels now that she's done at the warehouse, the online class Dad is teaching right now. I usually keep pretty quiet during these conversations. I've always been the quiet one.
When I decided to write a post, I was sitting on the couch, flipping through Kinfolk Magazine, listening to Mom and Allie chat, drifting in and out of their conversation. The sounds of the city rise from the streets 15 stories down, the candle flickers, students in the studio on the floor above move easels. Dad and Andrew take Chevy for her late-night walk. I am with the people I love the most in a city that is familiar and yet always surprises me. I am home. Time with family is a deposit, not a withdrawal. These hours seem so rare, so precious, and I want to savor them.
In the middle of this city, where taxis are still on the streets and students are still upstairs in the studio, I find peace and rest. I am refreshed and restored.
"Inhale grace; exhale gratitude."
