NaBloPoMo #8

NaBloPoMo - National Blog Posting Month

Question: When was the first time that you realized that your home was not like other people’s homes?

My Response:

This is the fourth version of an answer to this daily question. I didn't like the first two that were about my autobiographical home experiences and the third one took an entirely different approach, inspired by a bit of salsa on a chip at lunch today, this one fictional, that I loved so much. I decided to save it for later when I wanted to write something completely fictional, longer, slightly dark yet funny and spend a great deal of time and planning. Yes, I do that some times, really!  So the fourth one is about my home away from home, my mother's place.

My mother lives far away but manages to, through kindness rays, gravitationally attract some of her children to live near her. Perhaps I have figured out the UNIFIED FIELD THEORY that even Einstein never solved! Within a 20 mile radius of her home are 3 of her 7 children, with another not too much farther. Yet her home is far away from any of our childhood homes. My inner orbital siblings all do a very good job taking care of her and I visit by phone often. They do call me when they need a computer fixed. I am planet tech support.

This is the second time that my mother has lived in this particular small town, moving back within a couple blocks or so of the old first place. She moved there originally following my step-father's retirement. Near water, near fish was his original wish.

It was a rather convenient spot, because several miles north on one interstate were all three of her step-children in the same city. In the opposite direction south about the same distance were all three of my mother's adopted children and grandchildren. And then west the same order of magnitude distance were her 4 natural born children and family, planets and moons. But this arrangement was brief, the universe changes and there are pressures, spinning, collisions and the alignment of the plain nuts fell out of perfectional direction. People die, people divorce, people supernova. Now there is actually one child on the east side, the T-shape overall pattern gone, on down another interstate eastwardly. (Balance?) 

But mom is back in the middle of the Big Hang In There Theory and has a bunch of her kids close, that is nice. Siblings, there is a warm spot at the middle of our you and I in verse.