Back Roads to Home - The Back Story

I've told the story at least in part. How hearing that my younger brother's health was not good and how I just started writing to help me wrap my mind around the possibility that he might not make it.

What I don't think I've ever talked about how that event inspired two songs at the same time. Brother Mine was the first song and it was me trying to recognize that although I didn't agree with all the choices my brother made, they were his choices, made about how he wanted to live his life. The bridge lays it out pretty clearly,

No one to blame

Who decides what we build

Promises unfilled

Fate's a bitch

Plays her game

With no sorrow, no shame

That was one of those sessions where the words just came, I was writing what I was feeling, trying to mentally prepare myself for a less than happy outcome.

But then the wheels turned and I started remembering some of the better times, the happier memories of growing up in a house with an acres large field that bordered the woods. Every line was a summery of how we lived and what we did in the summer. Wandering about the field, going into the woods where there was a stream and we did catch crawdads, tadpoles, and fish. The garden and everything that went with it.

In Back Roads to Home I also acknowledged that it wasn't all idyllic communion with nature. There were chores and they were not as much fun as the woods and stream. That was part of growing up. The second verse lays that out pretty plainly. I'll point out that along with that huge field was also about 3 acres of grass that had to be cut. All with a push mower. That chore usually fell to my older brother and myself.

And again it is the bridge that summarizes the heart of the song,

Wasn't all work, wasn't all play

Standing in the back doorway

No thoughts of where I'm going

Haven't lived long enough

To know where I've been

It is a nostalgic look back, but one I think tempered with enough reality to keep it grounded. I don't regret at all those days. Even though there was so much I left out, those days gave me the basis of what I value today.

I'll close with sharing that my brother did pull through and continues on. He is in a group home where he wants to be. He has mobility issues, and needs to be constantly watched. He choose that facility, and I and the rest of my family are respecting his wishes. At some point we might have to make other arrangements, but we'll cross that bridge when we need to. In the meantime, we all have our memories, imperfect as they are of winding roads leading back to home.