Friends, we have arrived at the final chapter of The Sounds of Home, and you are in for a treat.
When I first read today’s sound of home, written by Jessie Voigts and set at her family’s cottage in northwest Michigan, it felt like I was reading a poem. I love how she flows from one sound to the next, as if we’re watching a montage of moments unfold — one right after another.
What’s more, I love how many parallels there are between her story and Jennifer’s story that we kicked off the series with: “The Owl and the Meadowlark.”
At the end of her story, Jennifer writes of “those long walks alone when my heart was filled with pain.” It just so happens that Jessie’s story ends with a nearly identical phrase — only the last word is different: “My heart filling with joy.”
And as I was hand-lettering that line for today’s final installment, it occurred to me: That’s exactly what home is.
Home is the place that holds it all — our pain and our joy; our times of loneliness, and times of togetherness. And through every season, our homes provide a soundtrack that can help ground us, no matter where we are in the world.
Whenever we hear the call of a meadowlark or loon, whenever we’re comforted by the sound of falling rain or the clinking of a teacup and spoon —
We’re home.
Thank you for joining me on this journey this week, and to everyone who shared their sounds of home, it’s been an honor to share your stories.
With love,
Candace
This was a lovely series, made lovelier by your art. This final one sounded so idyllic but it was also a great reminder that home is a container for both joy and sorrow because they are both part of life. Thank you, Candace, and to all the writers who were part of this series.
These were lovely poems rich with imagery.