Home

It's caling me. The quiet morning like none I have experienced in some time.

As I stroll out to take in my surroundings, I hear a bird in the distance...then quiet. A quiet that is broken only occassionally by the sound of a jumping trout or a distant log truck. AHHHH...home.

On this quiet morning, the air is thick. So thick that I can see the air skimming the water before me. The ghosts of my past moving before my eyes. For this is the town of my early childhood. Here are the many things among my earliest memories. The first house I recall living in, the ice cream store we visited as teens, the A & W my gramma used to go to to get us root beer.

Not far is the spot where my son was put to rest. His ashes spread among the waves to be carried to sea. he is always with me here...I can feel him with me. Always, but moreso when I am at the ocean he now calls home. He makes this visit bittersweet. His memory lingers here, even though we shared few together here. he loved it nontheless. Where he always wanted to go for a getaway, and where he wanted to rest for eternity. I will join him someday in his eternity, for he got his love of the Pacific Ocean from his mother.

Although my thoughts here are filled with Jeremy, they are also of friends, family, and dreams. Someday, I will live in a costal town; living these memories daily. That is a dream I have had since I left this area.....to return. Return to the area that is the only place I am now at home. If I can smell the Pacific, hear it roar, look out and see rhododendrons growing wild, feel the thick morning air hit my face, then I am home....at least for now.