Home...

I went home today. Not to a place on earth. To a place in time.

I already live in the home I grew up in and I have for a dozen years. The familiarity of this place has made it a perfect shelter for me in my post-marriage years. I live alone but I am not alone: those memories are here and they comfort me.

I have been on vacation this week. I went out in the backyard this morning to survey the damage from the storm we had last night. That storm was quite scary: the wind howled and the rain came down sideways. Lightning lit up the sky and the yard. The dogs were quite frightened.

So this morning, I was outside in my yard, with my cup of coffee, surveying my surroundings and watching the dogs play. For the first time this week, I was not struck with the urge to “do something” in the yard. I was happy to just be.

I did take the garbage can out in the alley; it’s trash day. While I was out there, I spoke to Kay, the lady who lives directly behind me. She has been my neighbor since I was five years old. And she is a nurse, too.

We talked about the tin roof on her shed: it is curled up precariously on top of the shed right now. She will call her grandsons to come fix it. And she asked if I have seen her kittens; they seem to be missing. Unfortunately, I have not seen them but, armed with a description of them, I promised to be on the lookout for them.

As I wandered back in the house, I realized that I was hungry. On a whim, I decided to fix bacon and eggs and waffles. I made orange juice in the pretty pitcher with the rooster on it. I served the juice in a real juice glass with cherries painted on it. 

As I sat at the dining room table and ate my meal, I looked through the bay window at the backyard. In a flight of fancy—in my mind—I could hear my children, when they were young, and see them in the yard, playing with my dogs. And I saw myself as a very little girl, playing with them. It was a lovely sight: my dogs from now, my children from back then, and me, from way back then. And I smiled.

I do miss those days. I miss being a young mommy and having sweet little babies to care for. I miss my parents more than words can express. But there is something more basic, and perhaps even more valuable, that I miss also:

The simplicity of being at Home….