I have to apologize in advance because I don't have any pictures of my family from my trip. My dad took some pictures but hasn't sent them to me yet (ehem...that was a strong hint, Dad), and I'm just really bad about taking pictures at gatherings anyway.
I decided it would be fun to suprise my parents. I called my brother and sister and arranged to be picked up at the airport. I had my brother go inside the house and say he forgot his wallet and then walked around and rang the doorbell: it was a tear-filled, hysterical screaming, pants-wetting surprise - and my Mom liked it too (just kidding, Dad).
Once I got there, I called my parents-in-law and asked them to have lunch. They were surprised too. I couldn't work out an effective pants-wetting surprise on their end.
Monday I went to see my dear friend Brenda. When we left Greenville, Brenda was very close to meeting her daughter, Elliana. I was so sad not to be there when she was born, and I was beyond excited to be able to meet her. Brenda's son, Carter is very special to me - I love him like he's my own and have loved watching him grow up. It was so nice catching up with my sweet friend and seeing her little ones.
I was able to go see the church family at Cornerstone, eat Chick-fil-a five times, and eat lunch with my amazing coworkers at Brilliant Beginnings. It was a fun week. U didn't get to see everyone I wanted to, but I tried!
But I missed San Francisco.
I left my heart in San Francisco ( har, har. How's that for a corny joke?)
But really - I missed it. Of course, I missed Marc. I had never left him for more than a couple days. Sure, I've endured the sometimes lonely life of a CPA's wife, but leaving HIM is different. Any girl who's married will understand what I mean.
But it wasn't just that. I miss San Francisco. I missed California.
I thought about this on the long flight back: why did I miss a place? I've never missed a place. I've always just missed people. I lived in Dallas for 17 years and Greenville for 7 - but when I left them for whatever reason, I didn't miss it. I missed family, or friends, or my church, or my job.
I think I figured out why I missed San Francisco. I didn't choose to live in Dallas or Greenville. But I chose, with my husband, to move to San Francisco specifically. It's the first thing that has been all "us." That first true grasping of the hand of God and just following, trusting, hoping. It was a big step for us. No one else showed us how to find the grocery store, to decide on a church, to learn how to navigate the steep streets of this city. It's just Marc, me, and God here. Maybe that's why I love this place so much now.