Momma’s Gonna Cook Me Supper

I’m taking a half day vacation on Friday and heading toward Missouri. I haven’t been there in forever it seems like. I guess it was Christmas the last time! Wow! I didn’t realize it was quite that long! All that aside, I’m excited. I’m going to see my momma, pa, brother (Uncle MoMo to my dog, Muffie!), and all the dogs that live with my family (Sophie, Sarah, Ebony, Silky, Scooby, Sasha, and probably Pugs, the ugliest dog on earth!) There’s just a special joy in the idea that I’m going back to the place I grew up, to the people who love me unconditionally. It’s Homecoming at my high school and I plan to be there, even though it’ll only make me feel old. (How can it not when the kids who are seniors will always be in my mom’s third grade class in my mind?) But I’m going to Bernie, if just for the weekend, to spend time with people who love me. Momma’s going to be cooking me supper!

Every time I drive home, I start getting antsy around Sikeston, Mo. I’m so close, yet so far away (makes you want to sing, huh?) Then comes that special moment when I cross the county line into Stoddard County (the county I grew up in). I always cheer and look over at Muff and say, “We’re almost there! We’re in the home country!” She never really cares, but I do. I speed through Dexter, hoping not to get stopped at all the stoplights they put in after I moved away, then go as fast as the speed limit allows (sometimes a little more) down Highway 25, past the fields and farmhouses that defined my growing up years. Finally, I see Bernie in the distance and my parents’ road just off to the right. I turn and Muffin recognizes where we are. Then I roll down the window and she rides down the road with her ears blowing in the breeze, no matter how cold it is. And we both sit there in the driver’s seat gulping in deep breaths of Southeast Missouri air. It smells like home, like comfort (and sometimes, in the right season, like cotton defoliant, but that’s another story altogether!) Then I turn into my parents’ drive and smile at the lights twinkling in the windows. It’s nice to come home to a place where you feel like someone is waiting for you, expecting you, loving you, that someone is glad you’re there. I park the car and my mom comes bursting out onto the screened-in porch, usually three dogs trailing her. “Look, Sophie, who is that?” she’ll ask her poodle. And I’ll wave, and we’ll hug, and suddenly, I’m somebody’s daughter again. And somebody’s cooking for me, instead of me peering into the refrigerator trying to find the easiest, quickest meal possible. Somebody’s taking care of me, and I feel loved.

Check out this song by Josh Kelley. I think he knows what I’m talking about: Josh Kelley 20 Miles to Georgia Lyrics