Home is in the Bay,
Despite many years away.
Living in cities and towns far from the ocean,
Coming back every summer like a devotion.
So many moves over so many years,
Through celebrations, losses, joy, and tears.
Always returning to our family home,
On the sea, in the Bay, wherever we roamed.
My father’s piece of heaven, my mother’s garden,
My sense of home and family since I was ten.
My brother and I bobbing in our sailboat,
Swimming, fishing, or just hanging out.
In winter, we’d toboggan, go for walks down the lane,
Light the fire, watch a movie, play a game.
It continued with the next generation—
For my children it was their summer vacation.
My children and their cousins playing on the lawn,
Me writing and reading in the sunroom at dawn.
Our wharf and grey boat house still standing,
Despite decades of high tides and hurricanes landing.
The cottage has morphed and changed like me,
But sunrises, sunsets, snowstorms, the sea,
The constants anchor us in place,
To our secure, stable, unchanging base.
My children are now living far and wide,
Studying for degrees and living their lives.
They’ve known the Bay since they were wee,
And return often for family time and the sea.
Now, its memories I wrap myself up in
As I think back on fifty years of kin.
I can feel those who have passed, and those who are near,
All have been loved, and all are still dear.
We celebrate Christmas, Easter, summer together,
And gather in this spot, no matter the weather.
Until then, I treasure my moments by the sea,
Knowing how precious and marvellous life can be.
