and no time had passed.

I am sitting in the living room where memories were made. The thing is, nothing has changed. Some important people are now gone, but it feels like they are here. It feels like small me is still here, while a larger, older me looks on. I am loved. 

I know, because as my Memaw counted grandchildren yesterday, she counted me. Because and in spite of being "steps", my sister and I count. As do my sisters step children. I know, because she counted four greats without a second thought. The south is a different place. Time slows down, and sometimes you just sit. The hugs last longer and squeeze tighter. I'm so glad for this place, and so glad I made it back. This time, with no other plans except to completely accept that it is good. Good for me, and the best thing I'll probably ever know.

It doesn't feel like a new year. It feels like all of the old years rolled up into a sameness that is home. Truly, because for the most part everything looks like it did when I was seven years old. The foggy old mirror over the fireplace, the yellow, stained wallpaper in the kitchen, and the nicotine-stained drapes on the windows. At first, I wondered if the smell of years of second-hand smoke would bother me. Would bother J, who doesn't smoke anymore. It doesn't. It can't. Because I am seven years old when I smell it, and it's not yet bad for me, and I don't yet know any different. 

I don't make resolutions anymore. I don't see the need, since waking up every day is a reason to make my life the kind of life I enjoy living. The kind of life that I hope influences the people I love in a way that will make them happier, too. If I could bottle up what I find here, I would take it to them so they, too could feel counted. So they could feel what unconditional really means. It's kind of a big thing, unconditional. I guess that could depend on how often one has been subject to conditions, but for me, it's huge. Larger than me, many times. 

No, I think my every day decisions are based on a basic question. "Is this a good decision, or is this a bad decision?" It's rare that there is no definitive answer. If I am sitting down with my coffee and smoking one more cigarette will make me late for work, the answer is easy. If I think about quitting my job because I am tired of being bumped around and treated like a non-entity, I think about my mortgage. Still easy. There are only a few times lately that it has been too complicated to apply such a simple question. Or that it seems too complicated. Because in the end none of it is very difficult, unless you make it so. Sometimes you just have to say, should I spend this money on some plane tickets and fly thousands of miles to feel seven again? And you just have to answer, shit yes. Yes, financial consequences be damned, yes. 

AmIright?