The Road Home

 “Home is people. Not a place. If you go back there after the people are gone, then all you can see is what is not there any more.”
― Robin Hobb

When I go home to Texas, I always take tons of photos.  I want to capture the memories on film so that I can look back at them forever to remember things that I never want to forget.  

I was browsing through photos when I ran across this photo.

This above is my mom's house from when she as a child.  

She tells of so many wonderful memories of her childhood.  As the daughter of parents who picked cotton for a living or sold eggs from their chickens to buy necessities she never had an excess of material things. The house she lived in, the things she had or the things she did not have never seemed to matter as she got older.  In all honesty, it is the lack of these things that probably make her the woman she is today - giving, supportive, loving and caring.

When I look at this picture of that old house,  it makes me a little sad.   The windows are broken, the roof has collapsed in and it does not even have the dignity of a front door any longer.  As a house, it has lost every characteristic of being safe, warm and inviting like it once was.  As a home though, I am sure that if she was standing in the living room today the feelings of love, the remembrances of sorrow and the memories of fun would give those sticks and stones a feeling of safety and comfort.   There would not be a mansion that could compare  if it was graded on the sweet recollections that are held within those collapsing walls.

This is a photo of my parent's backyard.  Look at the colors, the beauty and oh the memories that  took place in that backyard when I was a kid.   It is full of life.  Those grounds hosted hours full of countless good times.  Looking over this landscape is where the most important of conversations took place in my house.  It is where tears have been shed, memories have been made and love has been abundantly shared.

The beauty of that haven is merely a small glimpse of that beauty created in my parent's home.

Knowing that time passes and seasons come I fear what could be waiting for me when I pass by in years to come.  Because one day, I too could drive down this road in front of my parent's house and find that the walls no longer stand.

Yet, due to all the love shared, all the warmth wrapped around me, and the safety provided in that house I know I will always have a foundation of my home that will with stand the test of all of time.