Sunday Sunday

Today I was sitting on the porch of my very good friends' and as I enjoyed 'Sunday Drop In' I found myself in the middle of several discussions. One that really struck me was about a pair of cuff links. The story I want to share wasn't actually about the cuff links as it was about how they ended up with "Sam"(names have been changed to protect my innocence). "Sam's" father was Scottish and was a child during WWII. Like many children he was relocated to Northern Ireland. I don't know why this was so, I just know it occurred. Years later this man, now grown, was touring the countryside of Ireland and ended up coming across another man that too was relocated during the war. BLAH BLAH BLAH.....the other man was important, he gave "Sam's" father some cuff links and now "Sam" wears them proudly as he should.
Now why you wonder was this so important to me? Well I found myself thinking how exciting it would be to have a "home" to go back to for such an adventure. It was then I realized that I did have a home to go back and visit and it is as much an adventure as Ireland or Scotland or BFE. My "home" is a little known place called Number Nine Arkansas. Just the name alone brings up mental images of wild times I am sure.
An adverture it was. I have two wonderful people that have been such an unbelievable influence on my life that still make it home when I return. I guess I should give some background before I drift on into the world of No. 9. I actually grew up in the Memphis area and for most of my years in Horn Lake. There I lived with and was extremely well cared for by the best mother in the world. The paternal unit was not as great. So this led to my adventures in Number Nine. During most of my teen years my mother worked very very long hours taking care of the needs of her family so during many weekends and most of the summer I lived with my grandparents so that she wouldn't worry about me being home alone all the time. I never gave this arrangement a second thought. I got the best of everything. I had a great mother and two of the most amazing grandparents.
So what adventure was there to find on a big farm during the summer for a teenage boy? You name it. The best thing was that I was given so much time to think, to create, to make my own adventures which each day were different. I was not running the streets. I was not just hanging out with the crowd. I was hiking across fields that may have been out at Number Nine but with the right creative imagination, I was all over the world.
But what made it "home" was this is the place where I knew I was loved, cared for, and given high expectations. I had two homes. But this one had Maw Maw and Paw Paw. Who could ask for anything else.