Does the title sound a little confusing? If it does, it may just be stating a fact. It’s home to me because it is where I grew up.
The house didn’t have French doors installed when I was a kid. That came much too much later. Perhaps, the deck could have been my stomping grounds, rather than the roof. I used to climb out of the window upstairs, either sit on the roof and scape the church steeple, train skirmishing past, or waiting to see the orange car signalling the end of the train.
There weren’t any trees on our one-acre lot. Maybe some bush in the back where my brother built a tree-house with his cousins. When Mum and Dad planted the trees, they were about a foot to two feet tall. Now look at one of them.
This is the tallest tree in the yard. I think it’s called a White Pine. My parents had planted several Spruce trees dug out for free out of the woods, and they bought a Mountain Ash which is still there. Later, Dad planted some cedars which the deer chomp on every winter. I plan to cut the lower branches so when I cut the grass with my riding mower, they won’t snag my hat off each time or grab a piece of my hair and pull it with their long fingers. Dad also took clumps of squared grass-pads and we had a self-made lawn.
While I was cutting grass near the bush line the other day, a purple vision appeared. I stopped my tractor-mower and my tune turned into a rhapsody. I had been talking to my parents, especially my Mum whom I had just lost months ago, and asking her for her approval of the job I was making. It seemed like an answer when I drew closer to the vision. About one-square yard of purple Iris’s bid me welcome. I was in awe. My Mom’s flower beds are all full of weeds, and that is going to be my next job. I knew then that she was watching me and wanted to present me a gift.
Enchanted, delighted, following a tearful afternoon of feeling my lost, my heart rose to the heavens. Thank-you! I know you are still both with me and as long as I live, you will be my treasured parents.