Going Home - By Jacqueline F VanZandbeek

She started on the long twisting road toward home.
Thinking about the sweet smells of Mom's cooking.
She remembered how warm the sun was upon her face,
when she swung on the tire swing that her daddy built when she was just seven. Wishing once more that things were the same as when she was little. Her daddy was on the porch whittling some wood. Momma in the kitchen cooking some of them warm delicious biscuits. While driving, she saw a few familiar landmarks as she neared her destination.
The old library, church and the little corner store from where she used to get her penny candy. Arriving closer to home, tears streamed down her cheeks, she was hoping things were okay. This was the last time she would drive the long twisting driveway. Seeing the trees with assorted colors of autumn brought back calming memories. She saw the house, and the big old tree she planted when the family first moved there. It was only a tiny seed then. Slowly pulling the car up to the end of the driveway, which was once the beginning. She saw a person on the rickety porch whom she did not recognize, with a head of gray hair slightly floating in the air. It was her momma with warm salty tears flowing down her face. Their eyes met and she just knew there was nothing she could do now but hold momma in her arms and tell her it was going to be okay. Momma tried to smile and welcome her kind-hearted daughter home with a snuggling hug, like she use to do when her daughter got off the bus from school. Momma started crying harder now and said, "daddy passed away about a half hour ago".

Copyright© 2002 Jacqueline VanZandbeek