sounds of home

certain sounds remind me of home...home meaning where I grew up...childhood.

Just the other day I heard some sounds while working outside and all I could think of was home...and Mom.

Growing up we lived about 2 miles from a train track...not a real busy train track...but every now and then and especially at night you would hear the faint whistle blow in the distance. A memory in my mind is cool summer nights, being outside sitting on the front steps with Mom and hearing the train whistle behind our conversation.

Once Bryon, my brother, called home from his mission in Texas. Mom took the portable phone outside to talk to him. While Mom was talking to Bryon, the train whistled in the background. Bryon got a little choked up by the all too familiar sound of home.

We have a mini airport for little Cessna planes not even a half mile from my house. The landing strip is about 400 meters from my backyard. Some of our neighbors have their own hangar. From our back deck we can watch ever so often a plane take off or come in for a landing through the trees. I even witnessed a wreck once while jumping on the trampoline- a not so good landing, but fortunately everyone was ok.

The sound of those little planes flying in the air, their steady engines humming on a summer day give me the greatest sense of security. I don't know why- sounds of home I guess. I remember telling my mom once that whenever I hear a small plane flying I am reminded that time is passing quickly. Mom asked me where I came up with those thoughts and I had no clue...but probably because it has been a sound I have heard ever since I was a little girl and it takes me back to childhood and reminds me how quickly childhood comes and goes.

So even though I am far from home I am lucky enough to be in an area that has both planes flying around and train whistles...to remind me of home...remind me of Mom.

I am having a hard time being pregnant and being motherless. Wow what a lonely feeling it is at times. Mom and I were such good friends. I miss her friendship. I just want to call her and tell her how fat I feel, how inadequate I feel in my calling at church, how I'm messing up my girl's lives by being an out of control mother, how I can't wait to plant a garden, how I just painted the girls room a cool color, how tired I am, how I wish I had a close friend nearby...these are things only a mother has patience for...

I feel that my family has kind of lost touch with me because she is gone. I just read a line the other day from a magazine that said, "Once your Dad gets a new wife, he now has a new life, and you are no longer apart of it."

I realized it was MOM who held the family together. She was the compassionate one who put feelings in front of logic, who gathered the family together even when it seemed inconvenient, who stayed up late despite being overly tired to listen to her children talk about life...it was her who threw something together to eat so we could be together for dinner...it was her that cared about my children.

When Mom died I lost both parents...especially when Dad got married...to a woman who is perfect for him supposedly, but will never care about me or my children the same way Mom did. And that is hard. Not that I am expecting much from my Dad or his new wife but I just feel so cut off from the security and love I grew up with.

And there is nothing I can do about it...I know. So I can just sit here and miss Mom and that's about it. Crying always helps me feel better the next day anyway.