No, not my home--my mom's home. We normally come here just once a year (yes, we both live in Texas, but 500 miles apart) and always at Christmas. So when I walked in today, my mind was flooded with memories: Where is the Christmas tree? (It is August.) Where is grandma? (She died a couple years ago.) And even, where is dad? (He died several years ago.)
There were some fresher memories too: The last time we were here Rachel's (then) bf was here too, and that had been a happy time for her. And tonight I'm sleeping in the bed where Gary and I have spent almost all our 30 anniversary nights (we were married on Christmas).
And some older memories too--many things in this place are things from my childhood. I wonder how much longer mom will live here?