The Three J’s

I skim the isles at the store

More things I don’t need

I see the mass produced plaques that profess the same tired platitudes at me

Its all for that dry chic and minimalistic vibe

Its always on some cheap wood sold for thrice its worth

Home Sweet Home

Gather

Live, Laugh, Love

Words really can fill us with magic but at what point do we see these exhausted slogans and finally lay them to rest

What makes home so sweet?

Is it really the wood on the wall that tells you it’s so?

Are there things that sit into the foundation of your mind?

Because for me they’re tokens of time

They’re more than just a place

Home is that smell of mesquite and smoke while the patties hit the grill

It’s the corner camping lot at Canyon Lake where the phantom easter trips echo and will replay until the end of time

It’s hopping in the jalopy my grandfather took such great care of

It’s the way the seatbelt hugs me when I drive because he can’t be here to do that anymore

Home sweet home is the homemade lasagna that was always on the table in October

The crisp cool air coming through the windows

It’s the resin trivet with cheerios and wheat frozen in time

It’s the cap that still smells like the Brylcreem he wore in his soft white feathery hair

It’s the Native American heritage in the wrinkles of the tired and hardworking hands of other men from Mexico

It’s the tradescantia pallida in a pot on my window sill from his yard

It’s Tejano playing on the radio when I drive

Sipping Shiner Bock I never got to have with him while I look at the mountains

It’s the snapshot sound of my camera capturing all the deer grazing together that he would’ve marveled at with me

Home is that little red brick house on Gettysburg that I spent my childhood walking, sleeping, laughing, playing in as if it were a labyrinthed castle

Home is the NRA knife he left behind

It’s hearing “Man alive!” from the boys of his blood

Home is when I see his perfectionist nature come out in my mother

It’s the hard work ethic I see in my uncles

It’s the soft nurturing compassion within my aunt

It’s the neverending perseverance and excellence in my cousins

Home is the tears that stream down my cheeks to summon his memories

Home feels like nowhere with him gone

Until all the little pieces of his love travel back and light my soul