I never knew how important a home really was until the death of Mamaw right before my eyes. Family is always number one in my life and to witness my mamaw’s breath be taken from her was devastating. I knew she wasn’t doing very well in the nursing home but I didn’t know that her longing to be back in her own house was overwhelmingly stronger than her body could physically handle. When I went to visit her and bring the painting I had made, I never expected to be a part of her escape. Knowing that I had contributed to this act was truly agonizing. I had just tried to make her feel less homesick by painting a picture of her home before the fire. Her sickness though. She had forgotten about the fire, and her lung cancer, and that she was in a nursing home to live in, not just temporarily stay in. She had no idea of reality. So when she had ventured outside to get some fresh air, she began to run. To run from reality; to her home. It was right then that God decided to bring her home, to heaven. None of us had known, but maybe she knew her house was burned down. Maybe she knew her body wasn’t strong enough. Maybe she knew that her real escape was heaven to be with her savior. Maybe her real longing wasn’t to go back to her house, but to chase after her dream to finally be home. When we had reached her there was a butterfly on her arm. One just like the butterflies in my painting of her house. That’s when I realized that she was home now. She will be greatly missed.