Home

My mum died just a few weeks ago after a short illness. We remembered her at a service of thanksgiving last Friday and I read this poem there. Writing the poem was a joy and a challenge – reading it to all our gathered family and friends even more so. However, I am glad to have it as a way of remembering Mum and I’m publishing it here as a way of holding on to that memory.

Home was once

a tumbling tribe of you

stacked and packed

into that wee house

so many brothers and sisters

all folded into one family

And then

home became

the two of you together

forever fixing up your not-quite-dream home

for a knock-down price

every new neighbourhood

a new possibility

Soon

home looked like

us four, family

finding our future

in every unpacked box

and planting our roots

in rich hopeful soil

Eventually

home was found

coming back to you for hasty visits and holidays

kettle on before the door closed

biscuits and board games and brilliant stories

you both stacked and packed us back

into your own wee house

We know now

home is what you made

every day

with secret skill and kindness

we know too

you have finally found your own way

Home.