There are days when life is tough, when things have become such a challenge that you wonder if you can handle it any more. It is on those kind of days that you hope for a safe port, a place where you can go and have all the hurts taken care of and the concern washed away.
For me, that was the Old Homestead, a house on 97 Dixie Street where my parents lived. I could go there, sit amongst familiar walls and know that I was home and that I would be taken care of. There are places like that for all of us. I am grateful for parents who made a home for me that gave me a place of refuge where I could be loved and taken care of.
Today, as I fought a freeway of ice and danger, I longed for the old homestead. I longed to be able to go there and have the fear of the unknown taken away and my feelings and concerns soothed and blown away. I longed for a simpler time when mom and dad would take care of it all. I longed for the Old Homestead.