I agree with nas, get right on it!

I have not one memory of the pleasant anticipation of awaiting a parent's arrival.  I actually can only remember the dread and heart pounding adrenaline surge, I can only remember the relief when they would leave,  I remember the first night standing on my upstairs balcony, the wall sun-warmed pressing against my back, the flood of released tension and fear and joy at the realization, the complete truth that I could give to myself the happiness, security, the pleasure and comfort of HOME, that I could give to myself  the home that I always craved, that I could make it be warm and safe, that I didn't need anyone else to have that indescribable feeling of not being hunted.  So I envy and love to hear and experience other peoples lives that differed from my own.  I will never be able to write with any truth your wistful remembering, but it somehow substantiates my own experience, or lack of it.  Thank you for this glimpse into your emotional past, I need with such hunger I appreciate with total pleasure this fictional truth, not made up just crafted enough to bring the truth into focus.  Joe

My husband used to use CAPTAIN BLACK pipe tobacco...This piece wafted that aroma and the hominess of roasted chicken...both comfort foods--thanks

Hi nas, a nicely descriptive poem to give us plenty of imagery. 

It appears to be another of those dreams of yours where, this time, the dreamer is missing the joy and comfort of their father. My only thoughts are that you could embellish it more with slippers by the fireplace, etc., but it's fine to me as-is.

Terence