The old saying you can’t go home again is probably true in the physical sense, however as I’ve traveled through life I have discovered remembering the old home place makes me happy.. I find comfort in remembering the place where the people are not ashamed of being who they are. I cherish my southern roots and re visit the old home place often in my memories.
Objectively speaking there is not reason to love the old home place it was just a plank house with a tin roof and some of the porch boards were wobbly and warped yet some of my happiest memories were made there. I credit the front porch for many of those special times shared with family and folk on the lane. The old glider swing was good for swinging, snapping beans and story telling.
The content you are trying to view is available only to subscribers. Please log-in or go to Register to subscribe today!