. . . like a motherless child . . . a long way from home.
i miss my mom and dad and sissies today. so much of the day is spent thinking and talking - about euthyphro (be still, my beating heart) or relationships or home decor or family or theology or whatever - that it's unsurprising that i miss the dinner table conversation we used to have at home.
when i was there in july, my mom and i had a pretty awesome argument (well, heated debate, anyway) about terrorism as a tactic and appropriate responses thereto. our first conversation when i get off the plane usually revolves around books and movies and the news. last night i was telling kat that i couldn't bring home a man who wasn't intelligent, and i'm seeing the soundness of that assessment more and more each hour.
but it's not just about my family's expectations. it's that they remind me what my own expectations are, when i'm honest with myself. when i look through their eyes, there's some fuzziness and distortion for sure. but, in the final analysis, they know me as i really am.
(and they love me anyway!)
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