Three Years

It has been three years since I have been home.  Three years since I have seen my parents and three years since I have held your hand.  When I left, I thought I was making the right decision and now that I am back, I know coming home was the right decision.  I wanted to make sure I could live on my own, but couldn’t do what I wanted if I was too close to my family. 

I couldn’t let loose if my family was watching my every move and neighbors reporting on my every adventure.  The only reason I came back was because of your failing health.  I just hoped I could get back before you couldn’t hear me anymore.  Everyone knew you were my best friend and the only one I regretted not saying goodbye to three years ago. 

Life could be cruel, but I know dogs are a different kind of companion.  Ralph was the only one who ever really was happy to see me and because he is my grandfather’s dog, my grandfather may be very happy to see me.  Or at least I think he will be.  Time will tell when I get home.  I hope my grandfather didn’t really mean all the hurtful comments he made toward me when I left.  I try to chalk it up to the fact Ralph was sick.  But now both my grandfather and Ralph are sick and I’m not sure I am ready to see either one. 


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