The Trauma of Love

Did we know what fun times with strange castlemates were were to have?
A year ago did we have any idea of Luke's amazing dance skills?
Did we know that some crazy German named David would become our Papa? [J, had you named him yet?]
Such great things were to come that we now have the pleasure of calling to mind at our moments of great homesickness.

Meeting up with Capernwray family at home is so strange and wonderful because it's taking something extrodinary and unexpectedly amazing and slamming it in on ordinary life. Sidenote: From what I've learned this week that's called trauma. Supposedly it's not good because it imposes on one's daily life in such a way that one is incapable of living as before. One is transported back to the particular occurence with vivid clarity of the senses.

Doesn't sound too bad to me.


The sight of Luke takes me back to Under The Stairs: the icy chill, freezing you for the rest of the day when the front door is left open once again. The excitement of something in the M box - is it for me? The smell of the main hall's slightly damp carpet. The warmth and comfort of "the cuddle huddle" with Kaylie and J.







Seeing Papa again takes me back to my first dinning room, Dinning Room 3: the sound of half the Zoo, led by Zach, greeting Papa entirely too loudly for 7:45, the weird moldy smell, the importance of being near the radiator, the acceptance of getting a hug from Caleb.



None of us will ever be the same.
Good trauma.