Home is where my heart is.
I’m from a town where cotton fields surround my house. Tractors crowd the highways. You can see ten miles ahead of you. Crickets chirp and trill throughout the night. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone knows everything. Secrets are hard to keep. There’s no place to go, yet everyone always seems to find a new dirt road.
Country music is a necessity. Tshirts and boots complete your wardrobe. Someone new is getting engaged each day. You talk about someone, yet you’re there for them the day that they say they need you. You hate the town, but once you leave, you’ll find yourself coming back.
That’s about how I am now. It’s fall break, and I am home for the first time in two and a half months. The town that I couldn’t wait to leave is here now, still the same, and I couldn’t be happier to be back.
My family is here. My life is here. My heart is here.
I woke up this morning with a grateful heart. My dad brewed me up a cup of coffee, and I felt more content in that moment that I ever have at Starbucks in the city.
Eggs and toast filled my plate and my family surrounded the table for breakfast together.
It’s hard to explain a feeling that you have when you’re so gratified and at ease. Laughter and love was shared, and our conversation revolved around SEC football. My heart was whole in that moment.
And right now, the front door is wide open. I see skies of blue and clouds brimming up above. Football is on TV, and my dog is in my lap.
“I get lost in the beauty of everything I see. The world ain’t half as bad as they paint it out to be. If all the sons and all the daughters stopped to take it in, well hopefully, the hate subsides and the love can begin.”