Days off are beautiful.

Not rad. Not cool. Not relaxing.

Beautiful.

Because you might actually get the house. And you pack up your earthy treasures. More than just materialistic stuff, things that bring you meaning, memories and a fuller self.

The clothes, the bed, whatever.

The scrapbooks, the literary novels, the pictures. That's where the beauty lies. Even the dishes. The dishes you inherited from your dead grandparents who always seemed a little strange to you on earth but in dreams reminded you of their presence for a whole year after their death.

And now you've got their dishes.

And pictures of your sisters when they get together in Missouri without you.

And leftover greenbean casserole in the fridge from your Sunday School party Monday night.

That's beautiful too.

Cause the memories you take with you are being made anew here too.

And that makes days off very very beautiful.