Temporary Home

While California is usually defined by its beaches and palm trees, the flowering vine, bougainvillea, should also be included on that same list.

Bougainvillea can be seen everywhere in the state. When in bloom, its vines are full pink, red and purple blossoms that cover fences and buildings this time of year. The blooms appear suddenly, like a burst of energy, and then last a few weeks and then disappear again.

Like the bougainvillea flowers, we too may only have a short time to bloom. So, we must make the most of our time and be bold, bright and beautiful as we pass through. It was fitting that the country club where we held the reception following my aunt's memorial service yesterday was lined with blooming bougainvillea.

They remind me of a poignant song by Carrie Underwood, "Temporary Home." It's all about how we are only here temporarily.

People are like these temporary bougainvillea plants. We bloom for a season and then die, marking another stop in our life cycle. And yet, there is always the promise of the blossoms' return next spring, just like our promise of reuniting with those we love who have moved on from their "temporary home" in this existence.

"Temporary Home"
Performed by Carrie Underwood

Little boy, 6 years old
A little too used to bein' alone.
Another new mom and dad,another school,
Another house that'll never be home.
When people ask him how he likes this place...
He looks up and says, with a smile upon his face,

"This is my temporary home
It's not where I belong.
Windows and rooms that I'm passin' through.
This is just a stop, on the way to where I'm going.
I'm not afraid because I know this is my
Temporary Home."

Young mom on her own.
She needs a little help, got nowhere to go.
She's lookin' for a job, lookin' for a way out,
Because a half-way house will never be a home.
At night she whispers to her baby girl,
"Someday we'll find our place here in this world."

"This is our temporary home.
It's not where we belong.
Windows and rooms that we're passin' through.
This is just a stop, on the way to where we're going.
I'm not afraid because I know this is our
Temporary Home."

Old man, hospital bed,
The room is filled with people he loves.
And he whispers don't cry for me,
I'll see you all someday.
He looks up and says, "I can see God's face."

"This is my temporary Home
It's not where I belong.
Windows and rooms that I'm passin' through.
This was just a stop,on the way to where I'm going.
I'm not afraid because I know... this was
My temporary home."

This is our temporary home.