All clichés apply:
You'll be missed by many
This will always be your home
Promise never to lose touch
even, Come back and see us
The hours will stretch into
days blurred into months
as the imperative of life grinds forward
Tears long-dried
But the silence will always remind of
humid days filled with laughter
and nights in a dimly lit garage
making small talk into hour-long conversations
carried away by the wind of an overworked fan
solidifying our bond as family
responsibility takes you west
Small Town America welcomes you
You've always had that effect
But the sun on our eastern coast
won't shine nearly as bright without you
the emptiness of your absence
will only be overshadowed by
the promise of your return.
Remember:
Permanence is but a state of mind.
Come home soon.