I left work at 6:30 and started the long drive to Alabama. I had packed my car this morning before leaving for work, so I wouldn’t have to make a long detour home. As I drove west on I-285, the sun was in the late stages of setting, and I drove into the last light of day, even as it disappeared. The stars came out, and once I got away from the bright glow of Atlanta, I could see them quite clearly.

As I was driving, I got to thinking – this is the first time I’ve driven down to the family land at night. I’ve always driven down during the day, before. There wasn’t much traffic on the roads, and out in the country, there weren’t any lights but my headlights for miles around. The last time I came here, it was just after Christmas. I had left KC for my parents’ house in Iowa, then after Christmas, we packed their car and my car full of my stuff and drove down. I drove to Atlanta from Alabama, while my parents drove back to Iowa. I had to leave a few boxes here from my parents’ car that I couldn’t fit into mine when I left; I hope to get them all on this trip.

My grandmother came to the door when I arrived. She’s in her 90’s, and can only see well enough to walk around without bumping into things, but she’s friendly and loving and always a joy to be around. She’s always trying to feed you or give you money or take care of you in some way – it’s wonderful. Although she’s bent with age, if you ask her how she’s doing, she always says, “Good. I’m getting better. I think I’m better than I was yesterday.”

I went to the back to see my sister, and she had everything set up for me – a fire was in the fireplace, a nice tablecloth was on the table – all the little touches that make a place warm and inviting were in place. It was good to see her, as well as her cat Sihn and her German Shepherd, Kajsa.

We sat around the fire and talked late into the night. After a while, our cousin David Hobart came down to talk. (He’s actually our first cousin once removed, because he’s the grandson of Aunt Sarah. We figured this all out. It’s important to us.) He had taken an undergraduate philosphy course last semester at a local community college – a class my Uncle Wallace taught in his semi-retirement. He’s a deer hunter and outdoorsman par excellance, and it was good to see him again.

There’s something about family, and familiar surroundings, that – but now I’m going to start blogging trite cliches that really have no business being bandied about outside of made-for-TV movies during the holiday season. Those of you who know what I’m talking about need no explanation. For those of you who don’t – it would only increase your pain if I described them.

I’ll just say: it’s good to be home