Going Home

We referred to the Belle's funeral as her homecoming. Her heart and soul belonged to the people and the land of Mississippi. I don't know what I believe about the afterlife, i.e. what the deceased can see or experience of the rest of us still left on earth. I hope she could feel the love.

Yesterday, I went home. I haven't lived there for many years (or decades) but somehow, it's still home. That pesky guilt troll lands on my shoulder and reminds me that I don't go there enough. There is no excuse. But I've spent an awful lot of time with oldies issues.

We had a game day. I think it's called "The Joker" and I highly recommend it. It's a lot like Aggravation but you use playing cards and it's more strategic. My aunt, my parents and I played it for hours. I made lots of mistakes but the most horrible one was telling my father of my latest quirk. He made fun of me for the rest of the day. (Don't tell people your weaknesses.) I belly laughed. I avoided the biting dog and played with the fun one.

I grew up playing board games. I can still picture Wild Bill playing Aggravation or Yatzee with us and he would get irritated. I'm not sure if his frustration was in losing or the fact that my friend was eating all of his treats while we played. He used to ask her, "Do they feed you at home?" She would gigle and grab another handful.

Mental games are not my strength. With me, you will know where you stand. I would be horrible at Poker.

I think of myself as a non-competitive person but I wanted to win.

The laughter and memories give me strength. I walk in their door and feel my stress ease. I am home.