Homecoming

Home can be in a two-room house. For nine years, it was for me.

Home, where my story began, where my Mother gave birth to me.

The smallness of the house was helped by the vastness of the yard.

To me, life was sweet and simple; To my parents it had to be hard.

Two brothers were waiting for me at an uncle’s house that day.

With two little boy cousins, their only thought was to play.

In late afternoon, they were told, “A baby sister has come!”.

They were eager to meet me, so my uncle brought them home.

My sweet Mother was attended by the long-time town M.D.

I’m told my Grandma assisted in caring for Mama and me.

Grandma had nine children, so she was much in demand

When birthing or sickness happened to lend an experienced hand.

Grandma's house was right next door, so I really had two homes.

There was never any need to knock; Someone was always home.

When I was almost three years old, my little brother was born.

Six people in two rooms kept my Mama tired and worn.

Daddy did mechanic work to keep us warm and fed

And buy supplies, lay a foundation, put a roof over our heads.

The luxury of six rooms, and a bathroom too,

Kept our attention focused on all the things brand new.

We visited at Grandma’s house as often as we could,

But somehow it was not the same…somehow not as good.

Soon after we moved to the new house, Grandma passed away,

“Why can’t things just stay the same?”, I asked myself each day.

Grandma’s house, my second home, was forever changed;

Though nothing had been added or removed or rearranged.

It was a dear Grandparent’s love that made the house a home -

Home can be taken with you wherever you may roam.

The new house my family moved to was just three miles away,

And we established it as ‘home’ by living there each day.

Mom and Dad worked harder than I ever understood

To feed and clothe four children and make sure their lives were good.

They were masters of firm discipline and tender loving care.

Day or night, through all the years, we knew they would be there.

We knew they would not leave us, but the years do take their toll,

And day by day we watched as my Mom and Dad grew old.

We watched them give our children a dear Grandparent’s love,

Teaching them that obstacles are things to rise above.

Making memories with them that will help to keep them near,

To keep the bond unbroken when they could not be here.

The time came they had to leave us. They died four months apart.

But they will go on living in our minds and in our hearts.

They lived through a Great Depression and a devastating war.

No strangers were they to hardships, adversity, and more.

When I get down and feel depressed, in these uncertain times.

With pandemic, global warming, and world conflict on my mind,

I look at family pictures of Grandparents, Mom and Dad,

And give thanks for all the years of love and joy we had.

My children and grandchildren face some trying times ahead,

And I know I cannot change some things that fill my heart with dread.

But one hope keeps me going…the hope that I can be

An anchor for my children as my parents (and grandparents) were to me.

NOTE:

The photo was snapped by me in December 2013. The little house I was born in and lived in for my first nine years had previously been the Mint Hill Gold Mine Assay Office and has been relocated and restored at the Mint Hill Historical Village on Highway 51 in Mint Hill, North Carolina.

It then became home to my Great-Grandparents who, I am told, worked as sharecroppers.

My paternal Grandparents' house has been torn down, but I am grateful that the little two-room house still stands as a part of the Mint Hill Historical Village.

Each year in early December, a Christmas Shop is on display for visitors to come in, look around, and maybe buy a keepsake. How neat is that?

Thanks for reading my story. I hope you enjoyed it. If you wish to heart it, that would mean a lot to me.

If you would like to send a tip, it would be appreciated, but if not, I understand.