you can never go back, but do you ever really leave?

back home. that's still a phrase i use to describe the place i left when i married Brandon. home was a red brick house with green shutters in a small subdivision on the outskirts of Grenada. home was a "double living room" that had once been half a garage but had the wall knocked out to add on to the living area. home was an electic mix of furniture that usually didn't match, orange shag carpet that was a backache to vaccuum, spaces full of what nots that never seemed to be dusted well enough. a cramped bathroom that 5 of us shared. the kitchen. oh that kitchen. my favorite room in the house because of the many laughs housed in that small room...oh the money i would give to have just ONE more meal at that table. mom cooking enough to feed half an army and dad telling funny stories that we've heard too many times to count but for some strange reason they would elicit the biggest belly laughs from each chair. i can close my eyes and picture it as yesterday. but i can't go back. physically......but funny how my heart, although it's here in my own home with my own children....a big hunk of my heart still walks in that sliding glass door and sits down at that old table....laughs again at my dad...i roll my eyes as Ricky stuffs too much food into his mouth.....i watch my mom get everyone settled with all the food on the table and i watch her stay busy even as everyone else has started eating. she finally sits down with one leg tucked in under her bottom.......my first family. my home. for better or worse it will always have that piece of me, and i will always have a piece of it..........and i carry it everywhere i go....

tomorrow would be my mom's 44th birthday....so here i say to her, i miss you more than my heart allows me to admit and more than my tears can release. i love you mom

1 comment:

lorimscd said...

Good lord Alisha I'm in tears over that one! You write so well, I feel like I just went home to visit with you!!! :-(