Welcome You Home

The sun peeks through magnolia blossoms in one of my favorite of Aisling’s pictures.

My shiny new husband has been away for 4 months taking care of parents who are end-of-life stage.

It’s got to be done, so he’s there, doing it. Fortunately, or possibly unfortunately, he works “from home,” meaning wherever in the world he is, so he can work from darkest Arkansas as well as from right here.

It has been mostly awful; navigating a different state’s healthcare system is bad enough, but throw the word “elderly” into the mix and uffda. Nightmare. His mother passed after a horrible month about 3 weeks ago, and he has been so consumed with dealing with everything else that he hasn’t even had time to grieve. Dad spirals up and down, but apparently is going to keep kickin’ a while.

But he’s on his way home, right now, driving north with what I am sure is a desperate look in his eyes. He’ll be here for just over a week, and then have to go back, but we will make the most of our fifteen minutes of togetherness.

I wrote this song quite some time ago, thinking he was going to be back far sooner than this. It’s even truer today. I’m still gonna vacuum and put clean sheets on the bed and clean the bathroom and make some potato chicken soup. But I have to admit I cannot control the weather (which is quickly going to turn to 100% chances of rain for three days straight), or hire a choir of angels (Family Folk Machine is at the ready, though), and as for pennants dancing in the wind, they would be completely soggy but I will do my best to figure something out.

To Welcome You Home, copyright Alma Drake 2024, Creative Commons (Attrrib)
I tried to get a choir of angels
to sing a glad, transcendent song
But all I have is the sound of my heart beating
to welcome you home

I tried to part the clouds that cover
to loose the diamond-brilliant sun
But all I have is my eyes shining
to welcome you home

Sometimes the moment is perfect
Bells ring out, the sun shines through
But today it seems ordinary miracles
will have to do

I tried to raise a thousand pennants
to do their wind-dance when you come
But all I have is my breath catching
to welcome you home

Sometimes the world is magic
Lit by glamours, enchanted by elves
But today we must be content
with the magic we can make ourselves

I wanted everything to be perfect
Some kind of fanfare or visual show
But there is no greater perfection
than to welcome you home

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