Thursday, July 22, 2010

Remembering Home

My back yard is where I learned to do back flips, hand stands and cart wheels. It's where I prepared for the Olympics. My drive way is where learned how to play hand ball against the house. My bedroom is where I dreamed about my future. It's where I wrote all those notes to those boys I had crushes on. Out my window is where I gazed at the stars. My room is where I danced to my favorite songs, wrote poems and played school with all those stuffed animals. The river by our home is where I learned to explore and catch and release. Mostly catch with my dad and fry those catfish up for dinner. I learned to ride a bike down a gravel road and play ball in my small town. Growing up with the smell of corn growing and beans sprouting makes a girl part of the country.

It's where I caught frogs and butterflies. Turtles, dragonflies and more. It's where I learned to drive in my dad's pick up truck, and where I dressed for prom. It's where I first fell in love and had that first heart ache. It's where my mom would tell me I didn't need a man, and where my dad taught me to stand on my own. It's where I got that first spanking and where I learned right from wrong.

It's where I saw my dad come home from work with a big hello and hug for my mom. It's the place my mom filled with love with all her special decorating. In the kitchen is where my mom would sing as she cooked dinner and where my dad would sing to my mom making her smile. It's the place where all seemed right. Just a simple time really. A place where I felt safe and thought would always be.

My childhood home is no longer there. No place to go home to revisit, but I still hold those memories. I can see a certain color, smell a certain scent and it takes me right back home where I grew to be me. It's the place where my parents gave their all so I could be all. I wish I could just go back and take it all in again once more.

It's where I sat after my father died, and where his ashes are scattered. It is the place that brought such laughter and carried many tears. It is the place I learned to love and learned to let go. Home seems to hold so much, especially when your searching for who you are. It seems you can find a piece of you in all those memories past. It's like a little nugget of gold in your pocket, to bring you back, to let you remember just where you came from and how you got to where your going. Our home is a part of us. It is a part of who we are. I can still see my child hood home. I can still see the pictures on the wall and feel my warm comforter on my bed. I can see my mom doing laundry, my dad cutting grass and me watching cartoons until noon.

Where is home for you? Are you seeking who you are today? Go back. Take a look. Open that window of yesterday and let it lead you to today. I know the home of my past and also the home of my future. My future home is heaven. The place I now long for. The place my Savior is preparing for tomorrow. We cannot move forward until we look back. Many times we find our answers in our past as we dream about tomorrow.

This song speaks straight to my heart. I hear it and just think of home. It takes me back and oh, how I would love to go back, just for a bit. Just to soak in all those memories once more that have been forgotten over time. Memories that have made this girl who she is today.

Fill your home with love. Fill your home so your children will again dream of yesterday when they are old and gray. Memories to carry on, taking them to another time and place when all seems alone. May your house be a home that always brings your children back to a special place and time. One of no regrets, but one of kind.

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