Nights at Home

When I was younger and single there was nothing to be avoided more than a night at home. Not because my family was unbearable or because home was a bad place but rather because there was so much in me that wanted out - opportunity meant freedom. There was so much that could happen, so many little adventures to go on. One time we started at Viejas and ended up in TJ. Another time I ended up riding a train in the snow. There were some great nights at Cafe Bassam (which I just discovered is now in Hillcrest and not downtown). The guys at Churchill's fast became acquainted with us as our crew swelled from 3 or 4 thirsty 22 year olds to a mess of youthful vigor and foolishness. Yup, I spent a lot of nights out, and I loved it for what it was.

But when I laid my head down to sleep I was all alone.

Now I usually get home from work and don't leave until the next morning. But what blessed hours those are. I open the door and sometimes Manoah runs to me and gives me a hug then grabs my hand and leads me on a journey he has traced and retraced a number of times that day with mommy. Sometimes I open the door and Manoah barely notices because his attention is captivated by the dirt he is meticulously transferring from one pile to the other. Anjuli is always glad to see me, I think, partly I am sure because I can relieve her of some of her parental duties. But I believe also because she genuinely misses me... I know this because nearly every day she tells me that she wants me to stay home from work to hang out. I also know this because every day she tells me that she loves me.

I don't go out much at all anymore. But when I lay my head down to sleep my heart is full and my cup it overflows.