Jack of Harts

I grew up with a loving mother and father.  They had arguments sometimes, and sometimes they had to leave the room and go for a walk or a swim.  But they never fought.  My father was the family’s rock, and my mother the heart.  With them, I always had a home to come home to, no matter where I spent my nights.  Yosemite took that away.  I wish I could tell them how much I miss them.