Acrylic on canvas
The drive to New York from Michigan is long. The road reaches
out in front of me with no end in sight. When I leave my home
and drive towards New York, I have to prepare myself for the
differences. My dad will limp a little more and my mom will
remember a little bit less. While the differences are slight
to those who see them regularly, they are more profound to me.
I pick up where I last left off with them, but time has moved
things around. My mom and dad aren't the same. Time has aged
them and I don't like it. I don't know the future any more
than my parents do and I hate that. All I know is God's
promise to bring them back home to Him. In spite of how
impossibly hopeless the situation seems, God has them on the
road back home.