Finally Home....

It was a beautiful week at Litchfield! Sleeping late, staring for hours at the vast blue ocean, rising early on most mornings to sneak a peak at the beautiful sunrises...then back to bed for a couple hours. Eating out and eating things I try to avoid at home,(why does everything taste so good outside?...Especially "junk" food???), and basking in the freedom of doing "nothing"....a feat, that anyone who knows me well, knows is quite a challenge for me!! But that is mostly what I did....nothing. It was wonderful!

As the week neared the end, I must admit, I was missing home a bit...missing my family (Mark and the kids were only there for part of the week), my church family, my "furry children"...and my own bed! So packing up was bitter sweet....sad to leave the splendor of God's handiwork displayed so magnificently out of the triple glass doors that make up the ocean front wall of our condo, (the view is truly amazing and the deck is positioned at just the right angle to get "the perfect" ocean breeze)....but happily anticipating the comfort, and familiarity of "home".

Because of the UNBELIEVABLE traffic that is inevitable this time of year on the Grand Strand, we opted to take "the back way" home...through Georgetown, Hemingway, and Old River Road. It is actually the route my family always took going to the beach when I was a kid. My Mom's side of the family was from Hemingway and my Dad's side of the family was from Kingsburg....Small, "don't blink, or you will miss them" communities....but we would always go that way to the beach and stop and visit relatives....(On the way to the beach we visited the living ones, on the way back we stopped at all the grave yards to visit the non-living ones.) I HATED THE TRIPS BACK. I never understood stopping and looking at headstones in grave yards...I found it rather creepy. I had never really known most of the folks while they were alive...so as my Mom and Grandmomma retold stories about them....it made me feel even "creepier".

Every tale would end with, "But they are home with Jesus now, and you will see them one day.".....As a child, that really did not make it feel any less uncomfortable...except for one grave site,...That being my Father's. For those who do not know, I never got the chance to meet my Dad. He died on Christmas Day 1961, and I was born on June 25, 1962...exactly 6 months after he died in an auto accident. His Mom, my Grandma Cora...(organist for Kingsburg Baptist church...the first place I ever sang...I was 3...it was "Jesus Loves Me"...and yes, I do remember it!)...and Grandma Cora would always make sure I understood that my Daddy knew Jesus and that we would all see him again one day in heaven...(So I got it from both sides.) Again, as a child, that idea was a little creepy.... but when it was about my Daddy, it was somewhat comforting. And I never got tired of stories about him...so curious of what he might have been like, sounded like, looked like....and by the way, I look just like him.

So on the way back from Litchfield, as I was driving alone along that familiar stretch of secondary road....I passed those same small county grave yards (I did not physically stop, still kind of "creepy" in my book)...but of course, my thoughts went to my family members who have gone home to be with the Lord...first was my Maternal Grand Dad...then my Maternal Grand Mom...then my other set of Grand Parents.....so many warm, loving Grand child kind of memories flooded my mind and my heart...I could almost smell the biscuits. I could vividly retrace walking hand in hand to gather eggs from the hen house...I could see the wrinkled, gentle hands reach inside the "Sunday only" pocketbook, pulling out the Juicy Fruit Gum (a bribe, I am sure, to keep me still for the rest of the sermon)...And for the first time in 46 years...I got it...I understood why we always stopped on the way back home....It wasn't about the headstones, plots, or the bodies that lay beneath the dirt...It was about the memories... it was a way to remind ourselves of who they were...who they still are in our hearts...to relive their legacies....(Pastor Bill, you were SO on the money with that series!)

Lastly, I passed the spot where my Dad was laid when he was only 29 years old....sadly, no memories of my own to recall....guess that will have to wait until I'm Finally Home.... we will make some there, for sure! Finally Home, where I will not only experience my Earthly Father firsthand...but I will meet my Heavenly Father face to face for the first time too!! I'm not sure I can even stand it!!! Just the thought of it overwhelms me to tears as I write this post!!

But for now, I am glad to finally be back in Florence, surrounded by my husband, kids, and four very happy dogs....

Until next time, Live a Legacy, Ya'll....

~Scarlett