I wrote down the piece at the bottom of the post years ago and found it in a stack of yet more paper.
My Mom died when she was 40; our family died that day too as did our 'home'. My youngest brother, 3 at the time and 13 years younger than me, hasn't contacted us in 3 or 4 years. Todd had a terrible life after Mom died. Last I heard he was in jail for meth. My sister and I finally gave up on him - didn't stop loving him. If you've gone down that road you'll understand.
Very sad. But, this piece (not of my own writing) is for all the lost; not only like Todd, but those who have lost lives and/or loved ones, those whom long for home... I don't even know why I'm telling this as I am usually very private about my life. The following is really beautiful.
"Home is not simply a mark upon a map any more than a river is just water.
It is the place at the center of the compass
from which every arrow radiates and where the heart is fixed.
It is a force that forever draws us back; shores us up.
For where the home is, there lies hope, and the future waits
and everything is possible."
