Home is the smell of Sunday sauce illuminating the Kitchen

Ten chairs Squeezed around the dinner table which is only made to seat six, a nightly tradition-

Christmas Eve, Thanksgiving, Fourth of July, Easter, with hundreds of people present but tears for those who are Not which strengthen the wooden floor as they fall, fall-

Tears for the Pioneers of these traditions that are no longer here to celebrate

The tears devastate but commemorate

the videos in black and white footage of Nana, with nine other people sitting around the table, wishing a Merry Christmas-

In her home-

To the most beautiful family in the world