There is a part of me that lives in the mountains of Tennessee and North Carolina – I feel complete in a strange way when I get to head toward the Smokies – like I’m all put together again. I can’t quite describe the feeling that I get when they stand tall around me as if to tell me to draw strength from them, but I always try. Today I am not going to try. I am just going to say that the mountains make me feel wistful. They make me want to stand as still as I can for as long as I can and imprint the image of the quilted landscape on my soul.
a time to laugh 
Your blood line from your dear ole dad’s side came from these old mountains. I feel the same way when I get close to them too. They have a certain draw to them that seems to pull us that way.