Aug 13, 2010
I like home because the shower's hotter, sheets softer
I am back from my little girl home.
Back from where things move at a different pace. A much slower pace.
You allow for 20 minutes extra at the store to visit with friends you run into (if you know me well you know I LOVE this!).
You get from one end of town to the other in 9 minutes.
And on your way back to your own "big girl" home, you pass farmers cocooned in their machines, toiling away in the beating sun. The earth beneath them succumbs to the plowing, tilling, harvesting, and other agricultural activities I'm too layman to know. The corn husks struggle to stand, their leaves brittle, crinkled by heat. Hay bales stake claims along the patterned fields. Cows provide one another shade, their tails swaying at, seemingly, the same frequency of a hummingbird's wings.
The driver opposite you waves. You wave back...that one wave where your hand is still on the steering wheel..."well howdy." The only radio stations you can pick up are country or oldies. Baby, I need your lovin', got to have all your lovin'...
I realize how much the town in which I was raised is a part of me. It is home to all the trial and errors of becoming. Happy and sad moments. First kiss. First job. Losing the family pet.
There's peace in knowing where I'm from. Sort of a permission to move forward. I am done there. I was done a long time ago. That feels sad sometimes. But wonders are on the horizon. Now, I work on creating roots for my children.
Regardless of where I was raised, I wouldn't have roots without my parents' own loving sweat and tears.
Their toiling 'neath the sun.
Today, why not thank the people who've invested in you along the way?