I remember going to the Smoky Mountains with my parents and sister growing up. I can still see all the fog as it settled on top of the mountain early in the morning. I hear my daddy say, "That smoke is from all those smoked hams they're smoking." Of course I believed every word of it. I loved those
hams. Not as much as he did though. Daddy always bought one or several to bring home with us. We all loved grits and eggs, mamas homemade biscuits, country ham and red-eyed gravy for breakfast. Oh my, what a Saturday morning feast! Nothing better. We continued the tradition of enjoying the mountains with our children. I remember staying with a couple of friends and sitting on their back porch enjoying the view of the Blue Ridge Mountain range. And just wishing. Not sure when I started dreaming about a home in the mountains; might have been as a child or not until I was older. Every since I can remember I have always wanted a home there. Sixty years old now, retired, and oh so much water under the bridge. It seems like that was a lifetime ago. Those dreams. For really it was. Nine years ago we started over. My husband and I. Now it's our dream. We have returned to the mountains of North Carolina. So different this time. For this time, we really are in search for the home that has been in my dreams for all those years. It's pretty neat how we were in the mountains a year ago when our house sold. That was the first step toward our dreams coming true. I just know God has that perfect little place for us. The one that he has had all along. The home that will bring us and our family and family to come; many, many, years of enjoyment. A place of peace. A place where the Spirit of Lord is present. A place that says to our heart, "you're home" ❤️
