Dear home,
I needed to find you. I had moved back to my parents’ house, after a difficult patch in my marriage, the hardest and darkest part of my life. You stood for moving on, for a dream come true—even if my life looked nothing like I had planned, even if I was living a new normal.
You were a brand-new condominium, in a brand-new development. You represented a new start, a way to move forward, a way to breathe again. Your relatively small size could house this little family (of just B, me and our helpers) and we could fill the inside of your white walls with laughter, a large dining table for lingering meals and messy art projects, with lots of books.
What I didn’t expect was that he too would find his way to you, back into our lives and that the fresh start that you represented would also mean a new beginning for our marriage. There were tears but more importantly, forgiveness and acceptance. Surrounding this reunion was the love that never went away, the love that allowed him past your front door, the love that allowed him back home.
In finding you, I have found myself again. Thank you for leading us home.
Love, Aurora
This month, I decided to challenge myself and participate in Susannah Conway’s April Love event. She’s inviting her readers to write daily love letters around a certain theme. I can’t make the daily commitment, but I want to do at least 10. Here’s love letter number 1.
