Ah to be home.
To sit on the porch and show pictures and describe adventures. To point out sun burn and pet dogs that seem to have grown immensely. To proudly show-off the souvenirs you got and to hand family members gifts and watch as their eyes lit up, simply because they love that you though of them.
To be home is to be held in the person's arms whom you love and missed. To be home is to eat good food that you wouldn't find anywhere else and to have second-helpings. To be home is to lie in your bed and curl up against your favorite pillow or to kick your shoes off and watch TV on the couch.
To be home is also to be swarmed by lightning-bugs.
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