Home for Christmas

While sharing testimony, a number of years ago, someone explained to me the notion of living life wide, or deep. That you can set up roots in one place and grow your life, deep like a majestic oak, or spread your seeds in the wind like rolling fields of dancing wild flowers. Neither is right nor wrong, better or worse, no more or less fulfilling. They are simply different paths. 

I have, in my life, lived both. 

As a child, my free-spirited mother carved out a wide path for my sisters and me, instilling a voracious sense of adventure in my soul. At 18, when I left the shelter of her, although not always stable, but loving and well-meaning wing, I continued to expand my path. 

For years, however, no matter where I was, throughout the year, my heart always led me home at Christmas. They were synonymous – home and Christmas. It was like a beacon. 

Mother loved this time of year and always, despite our meager means, made everything beautiful. It was one constant in our turbulent childhood, and subsequently, on my wide-life path. Although she's been gone for almost half my life, now, I'll hold those memories, dearly, forever.

After many years of some deep living, I put what I could in my van and went on to beat my path and spread my wings even wider and further than they had ever been. It was transformational, inspiring, healing. 

Then one morning, after thousands of miles and four Christmases away, I felt called, like a soft whisper, to come home. .. So I did… Think I’ll live a little deep for a while. 

  

Time to Come Home 

My long road home has no regret 

No tangled trail to forget 

Not a stone unturned 

Not a bridge is burned 

It’s just time to come home 

The first time I left I was just a girl 

On my way to move the world 

Some time has passed since I set sail 

Going back to where they send my mail 

It’s just time to come home 

Footlights and late nights 

Now, on back home, I set my sights 

To rest instead, the wings I spread 

Just going home to lay my head 

It’s time to come home 

Somewhere near East Jesus, it occurred to me 

It was time to turn around; home’s where I want to be 

Little dog rides shotgun, singing road songs all along 

Back to the place where they notice that I’m gone 

Crossed all Ts and dotted Is 

And all the who, what, when, where, whys 

This town’s been good, this town’s been bad 

The only home I’ve ever had 

Now it’s time to come home 

 

With new stories to tell, for a one-night-only performance, I’m overjoyed to join forces, once again, with my old band brothers, including  the masterful, Rod Robillard, on guitar, the ethereal, Marc Carrière, on the flute, and the consummate, Jim Sharp, on drums. Joining our musical family is my family, sister and brother-in-law, Leigh and Al MacDonald, singing backup, and rounding out the cast, is special guest, bassist extraordinaire, Duane Smith. 

We’ll be performing some brand new originals, some old favourites from the first album, and also covering a selection of our most-beloved traditional and contemporary Christmas songs. 

The show will take place at the picturesque Cornwall Golf and Country Club, on Thursday, December 12, starting at 7 pm. Doors open at 6:30. This is a licensed event. Show tickets ($20 per) are available through e-transfer to roxanne@roxannedelage.com or at the door. 

Dinner reservations can be made separately through the Club, by leaving a voice mail at 613-931-1122 ext. 227. 

We’d love to see you there!

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