Eulogy

This is the house that Jack built

At the end of a long drive
It stands apart from its neighbors
At home with its solitude
And its singularity
At one with the maple and fir
Yet a clear-cut human creation

The exterior is somewhat gruff
A double-wide garage
Stained cedar siding
And a modest morning-sun deck
The first rooms to greet
When passing the stolid dark door
Are the day-to-day, the ordinary
A study
A pantry
A guest room or two
Passage to the master’s wing
The intent is not to impress
But to serve, and serve well

Only after repeat visits may you discover
The heart of this home
At the end of the hall
The great room complex
Multi-leveled
With the long kitchen-hearth
Overlooking the den and formal dining
Through tall windows you gaze
At the broad and graceful wraparound deck
And the pastures beyond

Every detail of furnishing and decor
Rafter and siding
Sill and range
Bespeaks excellence
Neither gratuitous nor showy
But because the owner has known
Has lived with and can descry
The second-hand
The second-rate
The shopworn and shoddy
Where quality is wanting
What it means to go without
To lack and make do

This is a choice habitation
A domicile of deliberation

A man’s home is his castle, they say
Impregnable
Sturdy
A haven to all he protects
Warm to friends
Formidable to foes, or the wary

Yes
This was the house
That Jack built

But more than a house or a home
Or a castle
This was a mirror
This is the Jack that was
A mighty tower of a man