The odds were against him but he wanted to at least try. Even if he died on the way home it would be worth it. As long as he was heading in the direction of his heart. Back to the ancestral home where generations of his family had lived. No matter how far away from there they had gone they still thought of it as home. Even those who had moved overseas many years ago still maintained the connection.

It was the hardest thing he had ever done, but it was the most important thing for him. He left the place he had lived in for most of his adult life to go on his final journey. It would be a long ride in the car. Bumps in the road hurt him the most, and there were many patches of roughness along the way. He held on, he wanted to make it. His family were expecting him and had made preparations. They had organised a bed in one of the rooms. He hadn’t been back for years, life had been too busy.

He felt so tired, he wasn’t sure if there was enough time left. The doctors had told him days ago that there were only days left. He was so tired. He would only let himself rest for a short time. He had to be awake to will himself to his destination. He tried to keep his eyes open, but his eyelids felt too heavy, he just couldn’t keep them up.

He woke with a start. A large truck had been going in the opposite direction and the vibrations from its wake had shaken their small car. They were on a country road, there were no lights around them, and the road was deserted. They drove alongside a stream, that’s where they used to go eeling when they were kids. Around the corner, they turned and he saw a dim light in the distance. They headed up the gravel driveway, and he saw her in the doorway.

The light from the house reflected in the two wet tracks down her cheeks, “Welcome home son.”