Home by Jack Weidner Home. A Mother A mother dreamed. She hoped sick, dying in bed; waiting for a better world to come. She wished for her children, her friends, and the rest of her family a better life. She clung to a thought that in her passing, the home she loves will still be able to support what she has left behind. A Father A father vacated. He left behind a constricting home that he felt suffocated the life out of everyone it supported. He abandoned what he had, forgot, and started anew elsewhere, with little thought of the past—still it follows him. But he got out, and he found room for change. A Grandfather A grandfather watched. He witnessed the rise and fall of a home; the birth and death of its livelihood. He saw the people turn from honest to deceiving, loving to despising, hopeful into deep desperation. He saw light to end the dark, and he felt he must follow—to save a home. A Grandmother A grandmother loved. She cared for her home so much and needed to save it. She knew not of the hopelessness, not of the despair, but rather the positivity for life to exist again. So she succumbed, and turned her attention to a world she didn’t know, but promised a future. A Brother A brother escaped. He packed what little he could and got out; to run from nothing other than fear of being stationary—stuck. Ran to promises of a better life through education and school. He left and changed, now home has little to offer. A day came where he did not return. A Son A son abides. He waits for a better life far from these walls. But is scared to leave. Home needs him, family needs him, and he loses himself. What does he need? He knows not, but one day he is aware of the need to fly out and away. Away from the dying home that raised him.
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