“Home is where the heart is”
The sensation of peace on a cozy, rainy Sunday.
It’s the sun coming through the kitchen window every morning, my mother at the counter, making lunches as we leave for work and school. It’s my neighbor Karen lending me a cup of sugar, the drone of Bill’s lawn mower, and Liz turning on her porch light at precisely 8 P.M. It’s my eldest, Nora, off to the mall, my son Thomas leaving for baseball practice, and Mary asking me to read her another chapter of Hoot. It’s the dog sneaking up on her favorite chair and a final peek in each bedroom to make sure everyone is safe and sound. Home means predictability in an uncertain world.