"You can't go home again"

But you can drive by. This what I found myself doing the other night at the request of my oldest. We were leaving my sisters house and driving up a road we had taken many times on the way to Grandma's house aka the house I grew up in. I could hear him getting excited as we got closer. "Please Mom, I just want to see it! We don't have to go in." I turned into the neighborhood and he was about jumping out of his seat. A few quick turns and there we were driving straight towards the home where I lived for 9 years and where my parents lived up until last year. For the most part it looked the same. But it was the little things, like the basketball net in the drive way and the little lighthouse in the garden that said this isn't home anymore. It used to be the home where even on my worst day I knew I was ALWAYS welcome. It was the place where you didn't have to say much as long as you gave a hug when you walked in the door. I hope that the family there now will see that house as much as a home as I do. That house in so much more then windows and wall. Thank God it can't talk!