I fell apart at the library this morning. I totally lost it. Nearly ugly crying. In the middle of toddler time story hour. And it wasn't because the librarian's rendition of "I want a Hippopotamus for Christmas" was that good either. No, it was simply the sight of an old friend.
It was the feeling of warmth in a dingy library basement, filled with kids and faces that I recognized. It was the sense of belonging in a community, my community, even though I have been absent now for over a year.
I had spent the day before with my good friend Shannon and her lovely family, and enjoyed a playgroup with my beloved "June Babies" mamas, but for whatever reason it was the moment in the library, seeing several familiar faces unexpectedly that brought me to tears. When I went over to say hello to my friend Liz, I could not even get it together to speak. She was kind, blamed it on my hormones, and I simply had to leave without saying a word, I could not hold it together.
I love it here. I love the life we had. It was comfortable and full. It isn't as if life in California is so bad, it's just that Denver is home. This is where I belong.
And I am so very far away.