Home again, home again…

I got back Tuesday night from a trip to Missouri to help my mom get ready for her big move.  She recently bought a new home in Warrensburg to be near my dad who is in the Veteran’s home there.

It’s a nice house.  All the outside maintenance will be taken care of by someone else.  And it’s close to all those little conveniences that she used to have to drive 10 miles to get to.  I’m glad she was able to make the move before winter set in, and that she won’t be so isolated from other people. 

Of course, it means that someone else is now living in the house that I grew up in.  Perhaps they will turn my “playhouse” back into a chicken coop.  They’ll store their tools in my dad’s workshop.  They’ll eat in my mom’s kitchen that my dad and I worked so hard to redecorate while she was in Illinois helping to care for my grandpa.  It’s a little strange to think about, really, and a little sad, too.  I’ll miss that place, but I have lots of memories to hold on to.  And when you think about it, that’s what is the best part of that place that I called home.