Home When I Get There

A poem about loss, expectation, and hope.

Rita Mock-Pike

He passed on Thanksgiving Day 2007. He was my best friend, my writing buddy, my biggest fan, and cheerleader. He taught me theology and justice over waffles and compassion every day of my life. I wrote this six months after his passing, while I was in Australia for my vision trip – something he’d been eagerly awaiting my ability to do. Roger Mock, my greatest encourager, will always be missed, and though it’s been thirteen years, a little part of me will always expect him to be there when I come home.

When I close my eyes at night
and I listen for the sound
of my daddy calling me,
I realize he’s not there.

There were stories and daydreams
And much talk of the future
Of serving in that place of my soul
Where he’s known I would someday go.

When I get home from here
I think he’s gonna be there.
But he’s not there at all
just his pictures on the wall.

I try not to think about it
and try somehow to forget,
but everything in my world
reminds me of him, of his love.

And I just want to see him here,
Feel his smile and hear his laughter,
I just want my daddy to be
Home when I get there this time.

But he’s not and he won’t be.
He can’t be – he’s gone.

I do have hope that someday
At a time I won’t know,
I’ll see him once more
In a perfect place.

The streets of gold shall appear;
He takes me in his arms.
He leads me by mansions,
Takes me to the One with nail-pierced hands.

He’ll finally be
home when I get there.

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Editor-in-Chief of The MockingOwl Roost, Rita Mock-Pike is the granddaughter of aviatrix, Jerrie Mock, first woman to pilot an airplane solo around the world. Rita has found inspiration from her grandmother’s life and flight and pursued many of her own dreams in theatre, podcasting, novel writing, and cooking up delicious food from around the world. She now writes on food, travel, pets, faith, and the arts. She’s happily married to Matt, and faithfully serves the very fluffy kitten queen, Lady Stardust.

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