"I come to you and you see me whole," he says. "You love me all the way around the equator and not just for some story I wrote. When your door closes and the world's outside, we're eye to eye." ~ Stephen King (pg. 125
Lisey's Story)
A little more than a short while ago (Summer, 2010), I was reading the best book EVER! ~
The Lacuna, and at heart it seemed to be about the topic of "Home." It's by a novelist (Barbara Kingsolver), writing about a novelist (the protagonist - Harrison Shepherd), what could be a safer topic? And yet it's fraught with danger. You will have to read the book to understand what I mean.
When I read the book it was an apt subject since we were moving, after slightly less than a year at our First Place in Florida, and so soon after the Big Move from Milwaukee. We had very little to move but it still felt scary. I was working a newish job where I still felt unsure of the terrain, which also felt scary. And with the move, my commute changed drastically (which was the impetus for the move, actually). I wrote then: "Today I drive my 18.2 miles home and feel safe with David, but have to go back again the next morning. Soon it will be only 8 miles and I wonder if I will feel differently..."
Flash-forward to today, when I am leaving that same job in about a week and my commute will change again - plus a lot of other things, obviously. We're not moving this time, but it is interesting to look back upon the time when even a temporary "home" changed for us, and feelings about danger vs. safety were running rampant for me.
When we moved from Milwaukee was possibly one of the scariest periods of my life...we went through some rough times even once we landed here safely. But we did find our way in Florida, found jobs, a daily rhythm that worked for us, dare I say some peace and um, security?
Only to then have the shit hit the fan - literally - that summer of 2010, when our house (no longer a "home" per se), in Milwaukee filled with four feet of sewage water in the basement, and we would have rather it been carried down the bluff and dumped into the Milwaukee River than have had to deal with the ensuing chaos. And it happened not once, but TWICE.
We tried to do right by our tenants, did the best we could dealing with it all from afar (read: men in HAZMAT suits called in to clean up), but it was pretty traumatic; a lot was lost in "the flood" (view youtube footage via hyperlink below, if you don't believe me when I call it a "flood"), by our tenants and by us.
Some of my step-son's childhood drawings and letters being only the most poignant example. And, sadly, we are still paying some of the bills from that disaster (no FEMA aid for us, falling through the loophole of being not a business exactly and not living on the premises).
So, a money-sucking burden we can't get rid of - that's what I think of THAT "home" at least sometimes, when I even let myself think of it. We got a new property management company last summer that is way more on top of things, and this has helped some. And I generally just let David deal with it.
But it continues to be this worry-thought that comes up sometimes when I can't sleep, a black-and-damaged spot that still exists somewhere inside my head....and I feel so much sadness about this former "home" of mine, now just a "house" and how it was once a beautiful place I loved, where I felt safe and lived for close to 10 years.
But maybe "home" is somewhat portable, in that it's ultimately where ever you feel safest - a place where you can crawl up into a ball and it's OK - be pajama-feet bare with your soul, have cups of chammomile-tea-intimacy and no one will laugh at your worst fears. Or your best hopes and dreams.
Maybe that's why my "home" is with David and where ever he goes. But oh, it's scary to depend on one person so much, a whole other set of fears! (and a whole other blog post)
So, if you are up for it, try asking yourself these questions:
what's scary?
what scares you most?
and - what is your home?
