I recently spent a few days with my parents, a rare few days that were just me and them in the home where I grew up. I can’t even remember when that last happened. It seems that for so many decades my visits to them involved packing everyone and all of their stuff into the van for a road trip. This time, it was just me and my overnight bag.
Supposedly I was there to help, but instead it seemed like I landed briefly in a protected haven of simplicity and acceptance. It was good for my soul.
A few glimpses of what going home was like…
- A cheery good morning hug from mom as I stumbled into the kitchen looking for coffee.
- Starting the day with the daily sudoku and crossword. Dad made a copy for each of us from the paper.
- Apple crisp.
- Devotions from Our Daily Bread after dinner.
- Washing the plastic bread bags and aluminum foil when doing dishes.
- Playing board games in the evening.
They say you can’t go back, but once in awhile it sure is nice to visit.
kingdom grace 
Really lovely. :)
I like it … lots.
…you betcha’ … I am so happy for you!
nice
What a beautiful image of home. I wish mine was the same, for me it just wasn’t. The challenge for me was to create the home you describe, a safe landing that my daughters know, and always come back to. I always good to come back here.Peace…Ron+
brings to mind a lot of my childhood memories – thanks Grace.
Once in awhile it’s okay, even nice, to be treated like you are 12. :)
Looks like something out of Norman Rockwell’s America.I would liked to have to grown up in that time in America.
That is a very interesting picture.It makes me want to get in a time machine and go back in time,when families sat together at the table.