Welcome home.

I don't like goodbyes, but I'm almost fond of the small, bittersweet moments in time that follow. That feeling of taking it all in one last time as you drive away. Knowing that it's over and it was good and that there's a new chapter ready to be written once you get out of the still, content mourning of the last.

I'm okay with that, as long as I have that to focus on instead of the goodbye. I don't like the goodbye.

On the plane today I sat by a man who kept looking over at me, so I took my headphones out.. his body language was clearly trying to communicate. He said that I look so calm and comfortable and asked, "Do you fly often?" "Yes," I replied. "This is only my second time.." "It's my over-100th time, so I'm fairly used to it." We exchanged smiles. His body language still seemed anxious for communication, but I wanted to listen to my music and, at the time, wasn't entirely into creating conversation out of thin air. As I sat there with my soundtrack playing and my eyes wandering the plane, I made a decision that I would be entirely content if I were to die with a group of complete strangers.

My grandpa greeted me out by baggage claim. [I call him Gumball.] He had a nice, little black gift bag. When he sat it down I accidentally got a peak inside to see that there was a little card with my name and some writing on it. That alone warmed my heart.. We got to the car and from the bag he handed me a little box with a little card on top that read "Bay. Welcome Back. Gumball." As he was giving me all the explanation in the world concerning the gift, I opened it to find a nice, durable key chain with a dangling, ceramic Pomeranian. Immediately I started crying... It may be the most precious gift that I have ever received. Considering the current situation in my life, that little, ceramic Pomeranian means the world to me. I couldn't stop the tears, and he couldn't stop the nervous chatter.

The bag still had another gift in it. Another box with another little note to his wife:

"Flora Mai. For making me a father. Ron"

Ocala, I'm home. & my heart is so, so full.