Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Homesick

I feel so homesick tonight. Yet, it isn't the kind of homesickness where packing a bag and heading home will cure it.

Sometimes I just want to pack a bag, pack up Rascal and send myself home. When I arrive in the driveway, I open the side gate, open the back door and step inside, my body sighs a huge release. There is something about going home. The arms of protections envelop you, release from worry overcome you and knowing you have a place where you belong make it all worth while.

My dad would be cooking is favorite meal with me cleaning up the dishes along with the rest of the house. After dinner, I would walk outside in the backyard and sit in the swing and try to count those beautiful stars again. I started way back in fifth grade. The best part of it all was the neighbors were still the kind, protective people who lived there when I was still in school. Unfortunately, it became a very unsafe, drug infested place before we sold the house.

Then I'd open my bedroom door, crawl into the bed I slept in since third grade, and fall hard and fast asleep into a world of good memory dreams, the kind life crowds out with worry and stress.

But I can never go home again. We sold the house after my brother died in 1994. My dad and brother had moved in with me a year before since my brother was diagnosed with cancer. Life changed drastically. My childhood home was gone. My only sibling was gone. My mother died nine years before. My dad died two years after my brother.

Tonight I just want to go home, to walk in that door, crawl into my old bed, and fall into a deep dream induced sleep, feel the security home brings, and be at peace. Will I ever find that kind of peace on this earth again? I wonder sometimes.

I can't go home anymore. 

I miss my mother, father and brother so much.

4 comments:

  1. So sorry that you are feeling homesick like that!

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    1. I suppose everyone feels this way at times. Thank you for your care!

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  2. I understand your desire to go home. I have felt homesick for a couple of weeks now too. Thank you for writing so beautifully the memory of home.

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    1. Thanks, Lousetta, for understanding. It is hard unless you've been there, too.

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