Mrs. Bruno: Maine Arrival

  We come around the final bend and the house comes into view. Unchanged. The truck in the driveway. The greenery in the window box. The snowman guards the garage doors. The large wreath hangs centered perfectly on the front of the house.

No signal light is required. The car climbs up the driveway and I look into the kitchen window. Knowing that she will be there waving in just a moment. No need to honk the horn. They just know we are here. 

The door opens and he walks out. Bean boots on his feet, baseball hat on his head, and no coat. The cold Maine temperatures don’t impact him after living in the same place for 83 years. I look back to the window and there she is… waving. A smile spreads across her face. One that I have seen many times for me, but know that it’s the two in the back seat that she is greeting with such joy. 

The back doors are open before the car is put in park. They bound out of the car, running up the stairs to greet him first. The way they have done for over 18 years! She has now opened the door, and waits expectantly while they hug their grandfather. They make their way to her, and she holds them tightly for just a few seconds longer than a hug usually lasts. 

I make my way slowly up the steps. Ten hours with few breaks and a knee that is not cooperating does not allow me to move any way but slowly. He stops with a suitcase in his hand and tries to give me a little tap instead of a hug. I won’t allow it. I wrap my arms around him and hold on tightly, wishing away the months that have passed since our last hug. I make my way into the front hallway, and she waits by the stairwell, unable to contain her excitement over our arrival.  She pulls me into a hug, and I am home.