Coming home is becoming so strange lately. It isn't "home" anymore really. Weird eh? Since J. is off pilgriming with the Pope I had her bed all to myself, and I must admit it was quite luxiourous. Both J. and B. are avid artists and they have their walls covered with pictures that either they drew or their friends did. As I was waking up, I was struck with the thought of how great it must be to wake up, look at the wall above you and see all this wonderful art that means so much. I spent a few minutes looking over it all and marvelling at what great artists these kids are. Then out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something that looked like a photo, it stuck out due to the manufactured look of it. As I looked closer I realized that it was a photo that I recognized. It was probably taken about 20 years ago, and featured in it is me, my Dad, mom, and Uncle J. All of us were out doing yard work, I was standing in front of my Dad looking all shy while he stood behind me leaning on a shovel and being a ham by showing off his arm muscles for the camera. Off in the background you see my mother's back, turned to the camera and looking as though she is walking away into the land beyond the picture. I thought that this picture was a perfect metaphor for my life as it is now. My dad, ever present and there for me, but not acting quite as responsible as one would expect. Uncle J. working hard away to reach the goal at hand, but still there and acting as a large force in my life. And then we have Mother...walking away into the distance. How fitting is that? I think that picture might be my new favorite.