08/18/2026
Home
Home is where I long to be,
In the backyard underneath my favorite tree.
In my playhouse dissecting a bee,
Or waiting for my mom to call for me.
Home is where I think of when I'm down,
Dreaming of a Gordon Lightfoot 45 spinning around.
Going with my sister to town.
Up and down Main Street acting like clowns.
Home is where my heart is still,
Watching my babies playing down the hill,
Hoping none of them got killed,
Hooping and hollering from morning until.
Home is the East side riding in a car,
Following behind my first born not too far.
If his friends saw, this could have started a war.
But luckily, his coolness, my love didn't scar.
Home is where the peace was when,
My youngest played with all his kin,
Catching a fish, but crying not to kill it then,
For as he put it in the pan it began to move its fin.
Home is where the love was in the days,
I'd go to my mom's house and on her couch, I'd lay.
We'd talk and talk, or not have much to say.
Oh, how I wish it could still be that way.
Home is where the laughter was right next door,
When right beside me lived my grandsons four,
Cooking for them, doing for them - never a chore,
Oh, to go back to that time just once more.
Home is where a bond was unbreakable,
My sister displaying strength unshakable,
Cancer waging its war that was unwinnable.
Her home is where my sweet sissy is unforgettable.
Home is where the joy would over flow.
When to the best job ever I would go.
So much peace, but little I did know,
The end, its face, would one day show.
Our lives go by in stages it seems.
We look back and remember events and dreams.
Home is wherever we are at the time,
But to go back to any of those times would be just fine.
We grow up, then our babies and grandbabies.
We think back about what-ifs and maybes.
But in our hearts is where home will always remain,
Anytime we are feeling weariness, loneliness or pain.
