2nd: Everyone is Home

I’m suddenly 6 years old again. And I’m sitting at the kitchen table. 

I look to my left, and see my mom cooking my favorite dinner, grilled cheese. She giggles with me as she flips the sandwich, splashing oil on her shirt. 

I look out the window and see my dad playing outside with my brother. Grins sparkled across both their faces as they tossed the baseball around. 

Everyone does their own thing, but everyone is home. 

I sit and watch at the kitchen table wondering when I will be just like my mom.  I always wished to be grown up, to be on my own, and most importantly, to be just like my mom.

The way she cheered me on at my soccer games, 

the way she giggled with me, 

the way she sang my favorite songs with me in the car. 

Yet when her death came, I wasn't ready…and in that moment, I realized not everyone was home anymore.

When I was younger, I wanted to grow up so quickly…or so I thought. 

After my mother had  passed away, I got a sense of responsibility, a sense of being alone all the time. Now that everyone talks to me like an adult, I wish I was still a kid. 

As a child, I wish I realized what a gift it was for everyone to be home. 

I’m now 17, and look over to see no one’s cooking dinner.

Not everyone is home anymore. 

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