etta james - a staple

Sitting on the porch, getting some air. I watch as my aunt runs past and inside. The sound of a party. The music getting louder as the door opens- Etta James, Sunday Kind of Love - As the door closes the music dulls to a muted sound again. The walls from out here seem as if they could burst open. And I imagine if they did, love would come spilling out. An overwhelming love.

This holiday feels different. 

& that statement is starting to sound extremely repetitive in my life. But I think the source of variance comes from the eight months I spent away. Those eight months not only changed myself, it transformed my family. They walked it with me. It changed even the smallest parts of us. The mundane simply feels less mundane(y). 

So the holidays feel unusual - better.

Thanksgiving took the cake this year. I can't wait to see what happens come Christmas.