Home hasn’t been a place in space but more a place in my heart… a place where you and I lived, loved and dreamed. My HOME with you existed in a long narrow flat where the cold winds of a Chicago winter whistled through the plastic you put up to cover the windows each year. It was a floor to ceiling window and light filled space where we danced and laughed and dared to pounder the greatness that was us. It was a throw back apartment with funny western doors leading to the kitchen where you swept me off my feet for the first time in the California sunshine. It was 100-year-old wood floors that we sat and ate our first meal on as homeowners and basked in the adventures ahead. The space changed ~ the HOME never did, as YOU are my home.
In basic terms home is a place where you rest your head, where you find shelter, where you feed your body and soul, where you clean and wash away your worries, where you sleep and dream, where you get to be authentically you, where you are SAFE. And in 2001 I found my home for the very first time, I found you. You opened the DOORS to your heart and welcomed me in. You DUSTED away any pain I had from childhood and BAKED meals of hope and joy. My home was grander than any mansion. It was warmer than the hottest of summer days. It smelled of opportunity, adventure, understanding, and LOVE. You created the best home any girl could ever want. It was as if I won the real estate lottery. My home was bigger, brighter, warmer, prettier, and stronger then I ever dreamed a place to live. As a child I never felt like I belonged. NY was never home, it was never me. I didn’t understand the concept… I thought home was place. How silly I was. Home is a feeling.
And now I feel like I am on the metaphoric line of the soup kitchen of pain. This type of homelessness goes beyond the walls that surround me. I am hungry for a feeling that will never be again. I want to be warmed by the fire of your love that is now gone. I want to sleep in the arms that will never embrace me on this earth. This HOMElessness covers me in the dirt of widowhood, the filth of heartbreak, the hunger of loneliness, the fear of never feeling THAT feeling again. You know the one, the feeling I felt each time you tucked my arms deep inside your hugs and held my head. I miss my home. I miss having a place were I can dream and rest. I miss laughing and feeding the essence of who I am. I miss YOU, my house, my structure, my foundation, my HOME.
So I wander the streets of this life. I look in the eyes of others I pass wishing to see the light, but it does not seem to be. The light of my home went out on April 29, 2011. The doors were locked, the key tossed in the ashes. The curtains were drawn as I held your hand and you slipped away. I have been evicted from my life… and I am not sure why as I always paid my rent on time, I always loved you. It is true what they say, ‘home IS where the heart is’… and my home is broken, is torn down, and has been demolished. I have wonderful friends and family who like a good shelter have supported me. But, without you my heart and soul remain on the roads of existence traveling until I find my HOME once again.
Around the world and back again~