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I drove back to West Virginia today, to pick up our lost middle kid. When I come home from work in the evening and Will greets me with his heartfelt smile and animated, “hi Dad!”, it is as if all is right with the world. He hugs with every part of his being and just melds with the recipient of the hug. So if this is what I get daily, imagine the joy of lighting up his face after two weeks. This makes all the all-nighters 11 years ago worth every minute.
So here I am spending the rest of the day and tomorrow morning with my peeps before heading back to the deep heat with the prodigal.
Back in November when I was here, I became more intellectually and emotionally connected to my forefathers on my dad’s side of the family. This evening, I became more linked to my mother’s side of the family.
My sister bought my mother’s old home place from my uncle just a couple months ago, and has been remodeling the house. We spent this evening there inspecting her overwhelming challenge, reminiscing, and being ministered to by all that refuge had to offer sitting under the darkening sky and brightening stars.
My mom’s baby brother is only 2 years my senior, so we were close, and as a kid, I spent a lot of days roaming those hills, exploring the creeks, and climbing the rocks with him, and I spent a lot of nights lying in the dormer of that house being lulled to sleep by the whip-poor-wills and screech owls. Life moves at a different pace when you’re among family, your source; and in this place, with family, it slows to half-speed and all sensory stimuli is contemplated, pondered, processed and blessed. An hour with repays years without, and gaps are filled with memories and sated longings.
While I sat on the patio of the old house, I wished you could be there to experience it with me. Noticing that you never showed up, I decided to take some pictures so you could see what you missed. Click them for a larger look.



...I'll carry the songs we learned when we were kids, I'll carry the scars of generations gone by...






...this is the sound a mourning dove makes...










...this is the sound a whip-poor-will makes...








...this is how a boy listens to a mourning dove...








...naiveté is cute, but innocence is beautiful...