Echoes

There are echoes, tonight.

Only the very best kind.

We appreciate our home, perhaps most acutely when we welcome guests.

And tonight, I’m up on the third floor. Listening to the laundry dance and shuffle, waiting for this cycle to finish.

I am tired

But it’s a good tired.

There are four more voices ringing the halls tonight.

Hello

Dad‘s trying to get onto the Internet

I’ve got the password

Is it working?

I think so

I hear a chuckle from sister two doors down as she catches up with family on a call.

Footfalls echo up and down the stairs.

Bags are offloaded, toothbrushes put to work. The zip zip of suitcases finding temporary rest.

When you have visitors, it helps you put your eye on wants, needs, and luxuries.

And as the laundry machine signals its work coming to a close, I appreciate the ones who’ve come from so far,

and the space they will inhabit,

if only for a short while.

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