I was raised in the South.  The good ole South. The older I get, the more I miss it and long to go back. It feels like home.

I love my northern home, too. Dear friends and family I love are here, but there is something calling me back to my childhood in the Deep South. Plus, my best friend/sister lives in there.

It’s where I learned how to cook cornbread and how to make sweet tea. It’s where my mother raised us on fried chicken, fried okra, and sweet potato pie!  My sisters and I learned to say yes ma’am and no ma’am, yes sir, and no sir. We played all day outside in the blazingly hot summer days, running around barefoot, and stopping at the honeysuckle bushes to snap off the end and taste the sweet nectar. I snapped beans with my grandmother, and pin-rolled her short hair on Saturday nights so she’d look her finest for Sunday church. 

Those memories mean so much to me.  They make me who I am today, which is some sort of strange hybrid of the South and the North. For example, I will forever love big hair and makeup, but some days my nails look like I’ve been workin’ on a railroad and I haven’t had a manicure in years. The combination of “lookin’ fine all the time”, and the relaxed notion that a woman can be beautiful without all that makeup is a good mix for me.  Not too much pressure, but just enough to get me out of my sweats and into a cute skirt and sweater. My mother set a good example for me. She’d never leave home without her hair done and makeup on; she’s one of the most beautiful women I know.  

Oh, and don’t get me started on the sweet potato vs. pumpkin pie thing. There’s no comparison, really, but every Thanksgiving, to satisfy all, we come with sweet potato and pumpkins pies.

So why all this talk about the South?  I think it’s because my longing for home is getting stronger as I get older and it reminds me of my longing for my final home:  heaven. As I grow in the Lord, my desire for the kingdom of heaven grows, too. And what draws me there isn’t the place necessarily, but Who is there.  My heavenly father.  I can’t wait to live with Him.

(5 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)

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4 Responses to “Going Home”

1. Debi says:

   March 23, 2010 at 6:11 pm

   Listening to your memories makes me feel warm, safe and comfy… like being wrapped in a soft blanket… like Heaven

   See you there,
   Debi
2. Elaine says:

   March 25, 2010 at 2:44 pm

   Right there with you.
3. Nate says:

   March 30, 2010 at 9:36 am

   I am in the same frame of mind, as retirement nears the old Arkansas home calls louder and louder “Come Home.”

   As for the pie thing, I don;t even deal with that other pie!
4. Joann Brawner says:

   May 9, 2010 at 6:00 pm

   Debi

   I am in the deep south AL, and you just
   made me homesick for those childhood days,
   I didn’t know everybody in the South knew
   about the honeysuckles and my mom only made
   sweet potato pie. We are as “homesick” for
   those precious large families where every
   Sunday was a mini family reunion as we are
   for our heavenly home. God bless