Children are the hands by which we take hold of heaven. ~ Henry Ward Beecher
I’ve been sorting through photos today since my computer is good for little else right now. This semi-break from the internet has given me a chance to finally clean up and organize the many photographs I saved. I’m not even sure why I saved a good percentage of them.
I have tons of photos of my granddaughter, many of which are not very good. Why do I save the blurry, the messy, and the half-way shots of her? I don’t know. Perhaps it’s because I don’t see her as often as I’d like and so I store up every little piece of her I can, to visit whenever I want.
My hands have been busy this weekend. I’ve been cooking, cleaning, unpacking from our trip home, sorting, painting and drawing. All in all, it’s been a very productive time, this time I’ve had to myself. Still, I’m looking forward to my husband’s return tomorrow. I feel odd when he’s away, as if a large part of me is missing. A piece of my soul, maybe. Certainly my heart.
It’ll be good to have him home again because, really, it isn’t home without him. In a sense, he is home to me.