I don't want to be here.
I want to see my son and my husband every day.
I want to watch Brigid hanging upside down from her rope swing and digging in the dirt.
I want to grumble when Brigid tracks mud across the kitchen floor.
I want to hear Brigid's giggle fits when she hangs out with her brother, her "Shining Armour".
I don't want to walk a block before I can lie down.
I want to sit and talk about everything and nothing with the man I love over a glass of wine.
I want to wear the "grubby" clothes
I want to cook in my own kitchen, for my family.
I want to hear familiar beeps and alarms, not the ones that make my toes curl and remind me of "back then".
I want to see "our" nurses, not the revolving door of "have you ever treated my child before, and do you really have ALL the info at your disposal that you need?" staff in a hospital.
I want to scratch inappropriate places without having to worry about who sees me.
I want a hug.
I want to watch the maple in our front yard turn, to pop the bagger on the back of the mower and get mulch ready to winter the gardens.
I want to wash dishes, do laundry and clean bathrooms (well, not this one so much, but I'd rather be home doing it than here).
I want to watch Doctor Who with Reggie over a big bowl of popcorn, and discuss the "finer" points of time travel.
I want to wave goodbye to Brigid as she leaves for her first day of the school year.
I want to see the random notes and paperwork that come home from school every day.
When things are tough, or my mind is going a mile a minute with the "what ifs", I want to have my rock to steady me, to lean on, and to tell me we have gotten through so much, we can get through this.
I want to decorate the house for the fall, to bake and cook and make our home smell wonderful.
I want to make fig jam... but I will not even see my garden in the month of September, and by the time we get back, the figs will be rotten.
I want to be able to send Brigid to her room when she misbehaves. I want to be able to go to mine when I need a time out, too.
I want midnight snacks, to dig around in the freezer and try to come up with something creative to feed the family, to make breakfast for dinner.
I am tired of being strong, I don't want anyone else to ask "How long have you been here? How much longer will you be here?"
I am tired of knowing just how many people "don't know how you do it."
I want to go home.