After climbing a great hill, one only finds there are many more hills to climb. (Nelson Mandela)

My family was outside cheering as I landed right on the road bisecting the meadow. I was beaming when I stepped off the plane like a celebrity. My mother snapped pictures and everyone clapped and cheered with big smiles. I wished I could have brought Rider with me. I would have loved to have us all together again.

“I wish I had a plot of land like this,” I marveled when the excitement of my arrival and new plane had passed. “It would be so convenient to be able to land on my own property.”

“That’s what you get for having all those city houses, city girl,” said Uncle Tony.

“You live in Philadelphia; you’re hardly a country boy.”

I looked at the house with nostalgia. “I wish I could take this place back with me.”

“You’re going to need a bigger plane,” my father told me. He smiled at me just like my other Tommy did and a tinge of guilt turned over in my heart. Tommy was still in jail suffering for my folly and I was jet setting and enjoying the company of my family. What must his family think of him now? He was going to be a chemist and now he was a criminal, college dropout. I couldn’t help but feel responsible.

 

When we filed into the house the smell took my breath away.

“What is that?” I cringed.

Everyone was as somber as if I had just spit on the Holy Grail.

Uncle Tony took my hand silently. He walked me upstairs to a bedroom on the third floor. It had a beautiful view. The high ceiling and original dark oak floors matched the rest of the house but it was irrevocably changed by the contents.