Funny how I used to get a happy little skip in my heart when I cleared the last set of hills while driving down to Alabama to visit my parents. And funny how today, as I cleared that last set of hills I felt a melancholy skip instead.

I guess that’s normal.

It’s hard now, to come visit with the house empty but waiting patiently. It’s equally hard to leave after being here a few days. The memories smooth out and it just feels good to be here.

But that first walk into the empty house….well…that’s hard. Every time.