Our cabin in the 1940's -- before Richardsons
Perhaps it’s because of my dad’s decline into Alzheimer’s, but my return to the family cabin is especially powerful this year. It is like all the memories Dad has forgotten were waiting at the threshold of the cabin for someone to enter.
I’ve been coming here since I was a little girl. Today as I came through the door, I breathed in the familiar smells of this place and felt the presence of loved ones who are no longer here — grandparents, great aunts and uncles, my mom.
A movie played in my head — I heard the sound of Mom’s laughter and saw her smile; I felt the pokes of nails I was sorting to help Grandpa Tom with his construction project; I saw myself, early in the morning, running through the freezing cabin to reach the warmth of the kitchen and Dad’s blueberry pancakes.
I am home.
Not the home where I live all year round …
But a place I feel most grounded,
Most connected, most spiritually myself.
A lifetime of my memories
Sits on these shelves,
Vibrates in this air,
Roams around these rooms.
In this place
I am … truly … home.
Reflection:
Where is home for you?
{ 8 comments… read them below or add one }
“Home”. The very word quiets me. And I find “home” in the most unusual places… mostly, when I’m not looking.
Thank you for your thoughts. Food for thought …
Blessings,
Beth
very powerful- what a great reminder to cherish moments
@handmaiden — thanks for reading — and sharing your thoughts.
Beth
Thanks for sharing this. I wept when I saw this. My mom fell six years ago at the age of 62. She was diagnosed with a TBI and then later the beginnings of dementia. I saw some memory problems before she fell so I wonder if the dementia was there all along. My dad died suddenly 3 years ago after faithfully taking care of her. I wish sometimes that I had a place to go home to…..I’ve just begun grief counseling as I’ve bottled up a lot of feelings when I stepped into the role of caregiver. Thanks again for sharing your home.
@Lynn,
Thinking of you as you grieve. Thank you for sharing a bit of your story.
Beth
For half my life where ever my ma was that was home. Now half my life has been without her and without “home”. I have a place of my own but no family here so sort of feel I am without an earthly home. However, I am blessed with a heavenly home—I just haven’t been there yet.
@Patricia, thanks for your thoughts and your sharing.
Blessings,
Beth