‘front porch’ is Googled around 165,000 times per month globally.
I often wonder what it would have been like if I had just stayed in the village and never even knew what it was like on the outside. Sometimes I think staying put would have saved me from always wanting more. Maybe eventually, had I never ventured out, age would have put a damper on my imagination and I would have magically become content with what I had right then and there. But from the village to the city, from the city to America, and from America to who knows where, I frequently come across individuals who rarely travel farther than their front porch. Sometimes I feel sorry for them—thinking they have no idea what they’re missing. But when life gets hard and my vision gets blurred–I lose any clue as to where I’ll eventually end up, and I think about buying a rocking chair and settling in too. Then someone else close to me dies. Within the past five years, having already lost both my resident father and birth mother, I often feel the urgency of life closing in on me—reassuring me again, that it isn’t my personal taste to die a screened in death.