The words written here is my This I Believe Essay.
Home Is Where the Heart Is
I grew up in a cozy town called Springfield in the “Show Me” state of Missouri. It was the best place when I was little. When I got older however, I decided I wanted to see other places. Now I only take the nineteen hour road trip down there in the summer. Every time I am reminded how wonderful it is. To me, this means that no matter where you are, home is where the heart is.
As I pull in the driveway to the white house with blue shutters, I can smell the honeysuckles in the trees. It is summertime, my favorite season. I don’t get a chance to go down to Springfield as much as I would like so I always take two weeks in the summer to see my friends and family. As I pull in the driveway to the white house with blue shutters, I can smell the honeysuckles in the trees. I hear the loud buzzing of the cicadas taking their place on the bark on the dozen trees we have in the backyard. All I can see is colors of bright blue in the sky and green grass spreading out all over. The sunshine, even the humidity feels great on your skin. We enjoy the smell of the strawberry bread my mom is making for us. The kids enjoy seeing MemMei and Grandpa and the relatives they don’t see all the time. They love playing with their dogs, Baxter and Bentley, who love to welcome them by licking their faces. They can run around in the grass barefoot, and see everyone wave at them and say hello wherever they go. Here in Philly, you are lucky if the cashier at Walmart even looks at you. I guess that's why it’s called “southern hospitality”.
It is now the Fourth of July. The warm embraces from my friends and family who come to join the festivities makes me feel like I never left. The barbecue cooks burgers, hot dogs, and ribs that make your mouth water. My dad and I are going to one of the huge tents that sell firecrackers for us to enjoy tonight. The louder the better and is an exciting event for all of us especially the kids. In Philly you can’t legally set off firecrackers even in your yard made of concrete. My dad is not in great health with heart issues and Emphyzema. He walks slower and has to have oxygen all day and night. "You should move back here to be with us," my mother says. "You should've never left in the first place and now y'all are too far away." I say, "We have our home in Philly now. Jimmy (my husband) can't go anywhere till he gets his "32", (medical discharge from the police department). He doesn't want to be far from his family so we're planning on moving to Bloomsburg when we can." My dad says, "Well I'm not moving. All I need is right here...except you." "I'm sorry dad. When we go to Bloomsburg, would you consider moving there?" "Is there a lake? Could we be right down the street from you?" "Sure, I could get you all set up," I say. "Well, I reckon I could consider it." My mom says ecstatically, "Is it like Springfield? If so, hurry up!" Ever summer they mention that we should stay there. This moment, this conversation, I could see the hurt in their eyes for me not being around. They're getting older and I'm not there to take care of them as I should. It was a fun day, but sad at the same time. I will never take them for granted.
You probably can't tell from my writing but there is a bit of an accent there. Even still today when I go back to Springfield, they say I talk too fast and say words funny. When I come back to Philly, friends say I talk too slow and sound funny. I thought I talked like everyone else around me never realizing I have an accent.
I can be far from my parents, but I always think of them as if they're right there. No matter where I am, I know where my home is.
Home Is Where the Heart Is
I grew up in a cozy town called Springfield in the “Show Me” state of Missouri. It was the best place when I was little. When I got older however, I decided I wanted to see other places. Now I only take the nineteen hour road trip down there in the summer. Every time I am reminded how wonderful it is. To me, this means that no matter where you are, home is where the heart is.
As I pull in the driveway to the white house with blue shutters, I can smell the honeysuckles in the trees. It is summertime, my favorite season. I don’t get a chance to go down to Springfield as much as I would like so I always take two weeks in the summer to see my friends and family. As I pull in the driveway to the white house with blue shutters, I can smell the honeysuckles in the trees. I hear the loud buzzing of the cicadas taking their place on the bark on the dozen trees we have in the backyard. All I can see is colors of bright blue in the sky and green grass spreading out all over. The sunshine, even the humidity feels great on your skin. We enjoy the smell of the strawberry bread my mom is making for us. The kids enjoy seeing MemMei and Grandpa and the relatives they don’t see all the time. They love playing with their dogs, Baxter and Bentley, who love to welcome them by licking their faces. They can run around in the grass barefoot, and see everyone wave at them and say hello wherever they go. Here in Philly, you are lucky if the cashier at Walmart even looks at you. I guess that's why it’s called “southern hospitality”.
It is now the Fourth of July. The warm embraces from my friends and family who come to join the festivities makes me feel like I never left. The barbecue cooks burgers, hot dogs, and ribs that make your mouth water. My dad and I are going to one of the huge tents that sell firecrackers for us to enjoy tonight. The louder the better and is an exciting event for all of us especially the kids. In Philly you can’t legally set off firecrackers even in your yard made of concrete. My dad is not in great health with heart issues and Emphyzema. He walks slower and has to have oxygen all day and night. "You should move back here to be with us," my mother says. "You should've never left in the first place and now y'all are too far away." I say, "We have our home in Philly now. Jimmy (my husband) can't go anywhere till he gets his "32", (medical discharge from the police department). He doesn't want to be far from his family so we're planning on moving to Bloomsburg when we can." My dad says, "Well I'm not moving. All I need is right here...except you." "I'm sorry dad. When we go to Bloomsburg, would you consider moving there?" "Is there a lake? Could we be right down the street from you?" "Sure, I could get you all set up," I say. "Well, I reckon I could consider it." My mom says ecstatically, "Is it like Springfield? If so, hurry up!" Ever summer they mention that we should stay there. This moment, this conversation, I could see the hurt in their eyes for me not being around. They're getting older and I'm not there to take care of them as I should. It was a fun day, but sad at the same time. I will never take them for granted.
You probably can't tell from my writing but there is a bit of an accent there. Even still today when I go back to Springfield, they say I talk too fast and say words funny. When I come back to Philly, friends say I talk too slow and sound funny. I thought I talked like everyone else around me never realizing I have an accent.
I can be far from my parents, but I always think of them as if they're right there. No matter where I am, I know where my home is.