I Hope They Never Visit

Though it seems impossible right now, eventually my children will grow up and leave home. And when they do, I hope they never visit.

Now before you think I'm a horrible mother who can't wait to be rid of her children, please allow me to explain.

I have a dear friend who still "goes home." She is a grown woman with a husband, children, and a home of her own. In reality she has two homes.

At first, this seemed strange to me. I mean, if I tell you I'm going home, I'm referring to the place where I reside with my husband, three children, and a dog.

My friend talks about both her home and the home she spent her childhood. The fondness she has for her childhood home is obvious.

Now, please don't think I didn't have a lovely childhood. I did and my mom worked particularly hard to make it that way. But, my parents were divorced when I was 12. We moved across the country when I was 15. Neither of my parents live in the town where I was born.

But, I know I am loved by both of my parents. I am blessed.

Now, back to my point.

My friend wouldn't dream of missing a holiday at home. Her husband is okay with this. I assume this must be because he too knows a "home" when he finds one.

My husband and I have to choose from which of four sets of parents and step-parents we're going to visit. One set lives near the beach and another near the mountains. The other two live near each other and close enough for us to visit in a weekend. We've got plenty of vacation spots, but only one home.

We may or may not always live in the same house, but it is my hope that both my husband and I will create a loving home for our children no matter where we live.

It is my prayer that my children will grow to have families of their own. I pray they build homes full of love, laughter, and wisdom. But, I also pray that when they talk about coming to see their old mom and dad, they say that they are going home.

No, I hope they never simply visit. May they always come home and think, like our ruby-slipper- wearing friend, that there is no place like home.

This post is being entered at Scribbit's April Write-Away Contest.


Stephanie's Mommy Brain said...

My mom was born and raised in one house. She inherited that house from her mom 10 years ago. It would require both of my hands and then some toes to count all the houses we lived in growing up. To this day that old farm house is "home" to me. Sadly, it's just not the same without my Grandma in it. I've accepted that the only place my childhood "home" now exists is in my memory. I have to say I only "visit" my parents. I don't go home any more. Home now is where I live with my own little family. And there is no place I'd rather be!

Kelsey Smith said...

Beautifully written!