That's what I said when I carried my babe and escorted my kids through the threshold of our new home. New being a relative word these days. We've lived in our current house for seven weeks. And now I find my self yearning for the small town living we left behind in order to make an attempt to give our kids a better life. Although I'm not sure living in a tiny crammed two bedroom house in a small town with the population of 664 (just guessing, but probably close) was so bad after moving a much larger town.
That my friends is the sound of shooting. This afternoon while I prepared my younger children to walk to the bus stop to meet my older child at the bus stop there was gun shoots. The nearby middle school and hospital was put on lock down. My heart skipped several beats when I got to the bus stop and was warned by security to stay safe and be careful walking back home. The shoots where not far off from where I stood awaiting my child. My first thought was my children and how would I be able to protect them all from somthing I had never experienced, never wanted to experienced, and never before in my life ever had to fear.
In the past four days, there have been five, maybe six in our "town". Of course that doesn't included traffic accident. Yep, had one of those right smack in front of our house a few days ago. SUV swirved and weaved and left a trail of three damaged vehicles and one innocent victim sent to the hospital.
We lived near Detroit for many years, I hated it, I hated the violence on the streets, the disrespect of personal property, and the lack of community found there. We left, no surprise there, we two years in a small town community, but our family grew, and we made the decision to move again. I just keep telling myself, "this is a town, a big town, but a town. It's not a metro, it's not Detroit." But today, you couldn't have told me any different. At least in Detroit, I knew one thing, there was respect for children. I never feared for my child, because everyone you met, even the teenagers, had more kids then I did.
But here, this town, this place, is a mine field, and I stumble across it blindly with hope that when the sunrises in the morning it will bring more then the unusal warm tempatures we've been receiving. I'd hope it would bring a sense of peace over a "town" plagued by stray bullets and unleashed angered, where childern and parents don't have to fear their safety for things as simple as going to school.
"Welcome Home." A home is where we chose to make it, and right now this is my home, this is my life, and beyond my street, beyond the houses, I refuse to think of what is going on outside my door (which is chained and locked), so I may make it through one more night in this place I call home.