You’ve likely already read about my brother, David, so you already know one of the characters in the song. I wrote this shortly after the death of my grandmother, which was a few years after my brother died. Grammie was the church organist at the Hebron United Baptist Church, just outside of Yarmouth, from before I was born until just shortly before she passed away. Grampy sang in her choir, taught Sunday School, and was a deacon and trustee throughout his entire life. If you were a visiting missionary or visitor, or stray, you might have been invited home after church to Sunday dinner at my grandparents’ farm, which was known as Cragtop. My dad says the cows in Yarmouth County all have pointy noses to eat the grass between the rocks, but I digress… Since my extended family’s lives have always revolved around the church, I grew up thinking of it as our family business. Now, that’s not always a good thing, because familiarity sometimes breeds contempt. I’m happy to say I lived through that phase successfully, though. This song is about seeing the folks that mean a lot to us again when we leave this world. It’s about being greeted at the door to heaven in the image and likeness of the prodigal son returning home. It’s about seeing the people we haven’t seen for all the years since they left us. This song is definitely not a theologically correct work; it’s about the feelings I hope I’ll have when it’s my turn to get welcomed home.