Of all the places I will roam, home is forever part of me.
I can see the bright, orange poppies coming out to grace the springtime hills. I can hear the classic hymns being played on the familiar piano—its notes drifting God’s praise throughout the house.
I can smell the fragrant aroma of brown sugar, butter, cinnamon, and oats mixing together to make the cookies of my childhood. I can touch your warm embrace—the firm hug that has always communicated that it will all be okay, that God has us held in the palm of his hands.
I can taste the warm comfort of a freshly baked pumpkin muffin, and no matter how many times I have followed your recipe precisely, my muffins never taste as good as yours!
I’m sorry, I can’t be home today. I miss you both—the parents who raised me, the consistent love, the abundance of encouragement. It’s days like these that make me want to come on over for dinner and catch up. However, we all know that being a country and an ocean apart doesn’t lend itself to impromptu gatherings.
I’m busy raising my own family now, and hopefully, providing my little ones with nostalgic memories of their own childhood, as you did with me. I can sing your beautiful bedtime songs to my daughter and son—the same ones you made up for me when I was a little girl.
I can cook your classic chicken noodle soup with hearty vegetables and nourishment in every bowl. I can delight each year in the same bright, orange poppies I planted specifically to remind me of my childhood roots.
I can listen to scriptures with my kids, being sung aloud just as you did with me so many years ago. I can pray with all of my heart, knowing that as I look up to the heavens, so you both are doing the same and trusting that the Holy Spirit continues to connect us, despite geographic distance.
I can’t be home today, and my heart aches.
Still, I am reminded that of all the places I will roam, home is forever part of me—your hugs, your smiles, your affirmation planted deep within my soul.