Go Home

It was time to go home from work and I was reflecting on some older customers I had had during the day.

A Mr Sherwood from NE 50 th Street OKC OK. How is that for a bit of home pegging from the Universe? Mr Sherwood told me he was 86 years old and his horse had thrown him off, but here he was blithely shopping for some casual shoes for when he wasn't wearing his horse riding boots. He told me he didn't mind getting old that it was a privilege.

That was right after a customer from Indiana, I think, told me she was 85 years old and needed some good all purpose athletic shoes, for her aerobics, her yoga, her walking, her bike riding, heck she might have said her marathons but by then I was kind of in mind melt.

I remember Dad telling me when I was grown up lass that I wouldn't miss NE 50 th street that what I would miss would be him and mother. That home wasn't a place it was people. How true was that! I remember when Goleta CA was my home.

Home.

How delicious to go home when you are tired, scared, sleepy, worried, troubled. Home is where your people are, where your love is, where you feel safe. Jean and I talked about that, how sometimes you just want to go home and get out of the world for a bit. Away from tornadoes, bombs, accidents, disasters. Cliche that it is, home is where you hang your hat, whether it be for one year or eighty-six. Home is where Judy learned to walk. Marc built a deck. Janice feeds the birds. Or Ms 85 year old Indiana does her yoga.

Yeah, I think I will go home.

Life isn't always a pickle and cheese sandwich.