It's taken nearly a year but I am back in my own home.
I am endlessly, eternally grateful to my family: for letting me stay with them, for looking after me, for making me cups of tea, for putting up with my stuff all over the place, for coming back to my house to feed my cat when I couldn't.
But it is such a wonderful feeling to be back in my own home.
I have always liked this house, but lately it has been making me smile every time I come through the door. I walk into my craft room (studio, I mean) and my heart lifts a little bit. I sit at my desk surrounded by paper, paint and glue, and I get a warm fuzzy feeling that makes me giggle. I work at the computer and I am joined by my boy who is so pleased to have me back.
I am living my life again. And it is so very good to be home.