Home.

 

My parents' house will always be the place I call Home. 

It remains my little haven in the middle of a forest, 

and the feelings that emanate from this place have not changed, 

despite my absence as an occupant. 

Every time I return, I slip easily into my place of Daughter, 

ready to step on familiar carpeting and sink into spaces I know by heart. 

The very walls of the house seem to send forth memory echoes  

of childish laughter, still finding a place to linger. 

They belong to my memories, and there they will stay. 

Nooks and closets smile with old secrets that were once shared within their corners, 

and the air is full of a very special, comfortable sort of feeling. 

Everything is good, and life is at one of its happiest points, 

when we are Home. 

 

My parents built the physical walls of our house, 

as well as the spiritual foundation of our lives. 

It is all their doing, this Home they have created. 

To be with them is to be loved, and with their company comes 

consciousness of protection and wisdom and joy. 

Home is where they are. 

  

And Home has expanded to envelop another heart. 

Timmy belongs at Home, just as I do, 

because he was always meant to find his place as a part of our family. 

He fits into Son without squeezing, 

and his presence has become irreplaceable within this circle of love.

We're all best friends here.

My adult mind has long ago confirmed 

 a sneaking childhood suspicion 

that my parents are truly exceptional in every aspect.

 

(This past weekend was what we called Snuggle Weekend, and had been starred on our calendars for months. Timmy and I spent the entire weekend basking in Mom and Dad love.

About a year ago, Dad built a little cabin across the creek for us girlies to stay in when we come Home to visit, and the four of us spent most of the weekend snuggled in the cabin, making breakfast on an old wood stove, playing games, doing puzzles, eating yummy Mom-made treats, and sitting in candlelight, just talking. 

 (Eggs. Gross.)

It was, as Timmy would say it, "One of the best weekends OF MY LIFE!" And the rest of us, I think, would agree. When Mom, Dad, Tim, and Becki are all at Home, magic happens.)