Home stirs up a plethora of memories. The luxurious taste of Bacon Lettuce and Tomato sandwiches. The happy look on Neva J’s face when I returned from school each day. The secure thoughts I had when I listened to the Joey Bishop show as I dutifully lay on my bed to obey the arbitrary bedtime set by my stepfather. How the water felt in July while swimming at Pounds Hollow. The comfort of Christianity I experienced as a roadmap for life.

We endeavor to recreate home. We know it when we feel it. Home gives us our sense of place. Life is optimal when we are home.

I love the song ‘The Green Grass Of Home’ with the lyrics, ‘The old hometown looks the same as I step down from the train, and there to meet me is my Mama and Papa. Down the road, I look and there comes Mary hair of gold and lips like cherries. It is good to touch the green, green grass of home.’

The song is about a condemned prisoner who longs for the green grass of home. He remembers it as he will be buried there.

We thought of Home yesterday as we celebrated the 4th of July. We have a passionate stake in the continued success of our Home. Countless of our brothers sisters moms dads and children lay beneath the green grass of our land. We are inextricable from our Home.

I hear Uncle Merle laughing his jovial laugh. I see Dad teaching me how to ride a tricycle. MJ Jonathon Aaron and I proudly look at the old photo of the CCC Camp with my father-in-law Beryl and Uncle Merle before they fought in World War II. Dad fought in the Pacific. He wore a motorcycle hat and a leather jacket and carried a concealed weapon when we lived in Chicago. He rode a Harley. Neva J and I rode with him with me sitting in the middle between them. Neva J’s family called Dad Junior. They loved Junior. He was a hero to them. Uncle Bill would smile from ear to ear when he saw Junior as he worked his tongue in and out of the gap in his front teeth.

No one need tell me about the importance of the 4th of July…I lived it for 66 years.

At times a smell or phrase brings us Home. Life is full of challenges but has many rich experiences that form our sense of self. From time to time I read a passage of scripture in the service at our church on Sunday. The Bible is Home for me. When I read a passage I am the boy sitting by the coal/wood stove in our kitchen in Eldorado. It was so hot in the kitchen that the pages curled on my Bible. The fascinating stories captivated my imagination.

When I read scripture…I am Home…