The guitars are strumming. Music fills the room. Emotions embrace the hearts and souls there to worship. The lady with her arms raised, the man crying on his wifes shoulder and the passion through every note being sung, cause my eyes to fill. With both admiration and wonderment my palms come together. Blurred vision. A stinging sensation in my eyes. I struggle to see the words and harmonize with my mother. I want to carry these feeling everywhere I go.
I look at my parents and see how they have grown. I have always thought the world of them, but thank the lord for the people they are today. Under this roof they have become better people, better husband and wife and better role models for their children and grandchildren.
With the little eye contact we make in that hour, I hope they can feel what my eyes see. Again, my palms come together until my words run out... and my actions start to speak louder.
I'm grateful for these days and hold them in my heart. When I return home...hours...miles away, it is these memories that I will call on. It is these memories that I will once again look forward to.