Comfort in a Safety Pin

I have found comfort in the strangest places since losing Caleb and Lucas. Some of these places and things have caused anxiety until I take a minute to truly revel in the wonderfulness of it. I have been having anxiety all week about going back to my hometown, Washington, MO. I came back for a wedding that I wouldn't have been able to attend if I was 30 weeks pregnant with the twins. I wasn't supposed to come back home until the twins were born, so they would have been with me. There would have been a crib in our room at my dad's. The van would have been packed to bursting.

But here I am. Sitting in my dad's living room typing away on his computer. Yesterday was hard as we arrived and settled in. The thought of what should have been kept creeping up in my mind. And the need to talk about Caleb and Lucas with my family was really strong. I wanted them here with me so bad. I hadn't seen my parents since the twins' service. And I wondered if it would be awkward or if conversation would just flow. I looked to Willy for my comfort.

I was getting ready for my friend's wedding and needed a couple safety pins to pin my bra to my dress. I was in my own world and did what I have always done when needing a safety pin at my dad's. I walked into the kitchen, reached on top of the refrigerator for the blue cookie tin, and took two out. Wait. What was that? This tin is where it has always been no matter where Dad has moved to (he's moved 4 times in the past 10 years). The tin has always been the same. And there it is, a smile. I feel good. I feel comforted. And by two safety pins.

As I was driving through Washington afterwards, I looked around at everything. And the comfort I have always felt when here was back. The anxiety was gone, completely gone. I felt like a sick child wrapped in her mother's arms. I needed this. I needed to come home and be surrounded by my history. I needed to be reminded that the world is okay. And that home will always be here to comfort me.

I suddenly realize everything around me. The smell of my dad's clean laundry. I love it. The river air. I love it. My elementary school with a new playground. I love it. Driving 25 down the main drag in town. I love it. The view from the riverfront. I love it. And the hugs from my parents and those that love me and have hurt with me. I love them all. And I really needed to be up here as another step in my healing. I am comforted by the familiarity of it all. And by the reminder that not everything changed when I lost Caleb and Lucas. And I know they are here with me. Looking back today, I know they were in all the seeds flying around with their white feathers, making it look like snow, as we drove into town yesterday. I LOVE snow. I feel comforted and am ready for a nap.