H is for home

Home

Home.  The word conjures of thoughts of warm quilts, satisfying foods, family and pets.  It is where we go to recharge and get our thoughts together. 

When my husband and I were first married, we lived in an extremely old trailer for a very brief period of time.  The only thing good about it was the view and my husband. Truly.  It leaked, it was smelly and should have been destroyed years before but the rent the was so cheap and it enabled us to purchase our first home shortly after.  (Thank goodness!)

Our first (officially ours) home was a three bedroom bungalow that was so dirty that the off-white carpet in the master bedroom was gray and it took three of us an entire morning to clean out the laundry room because they had been venting it inside the house without a filter.  Despite all that, we gave a it a nice coat of paint, cleaned up the yard and it turned out to be a lovely little bungalow for the year that we were in it.  I rather like that house.  We had great neighbours and it was just nice.  When we sold it, made a little bit on it that helped us to buy our next home, where we lived for over fourteen years.

I loved my second house but as our children grew older we realized that it was pretty tight quarters.  When we would open our closet doors in the master bedroom, we had to climb over the bed to get to the other side of the room.  The two girls rooms were not much better for space.  Our yard had been bald-ass prairie when we moved in and by the time we sold it, it was like a beautiful park.  I swear that was why the next couple that lived there purchased it.  They got married in the back yard shortly after they moved in.  We made a bit on it when we sold and purchased a lovely sixties-style two-story that we absolutely love.  Sure it needs newer flooring and some updating but it has been a wonderful home to live in.  We have a gorgeous yard and mature trees.  Our neighbours are the nicest people you could ever meet. It has been a great home to have raised the girls in.

Now the girls are gone to their own homes. We are possibly looking at something a bit smaller again and thinking of a somewhat rural area with a couple acres.  It is going to have to be pretty gorgeous for us to consider moving though.  Our home is very much home to us and it will take a pretty special place to even think of moving.

Pain

I thought I should throw a bit of fiction out, for a change. I seem to documenting my life instead of writing like I originally intended to...this piece is called:

"Pain"

She was devastated when she got it, even a little confused. It was beyond her understanding this little piece of paper. Although she knew that it would have to be done sometime, she assumed that she would get a call or an email from them not a bill from the church announcing that it would happen the weekend coming up. It was less than five days away; she just couldn’t get her head around it.

She was still heartbroken from when he passed. God, she missed him so much. She missed visiting him, and chatting with him. She missed his big warm hands that held hers while they sat together in the common room at the home a few times a week over the years. Despite his infirmities, they always had a nice time visiting. Him, quiet and gentle while she was more outgoing and chatty. They were good friends and respected each other in their own quiet ways. She would ask him what he wanted to do with this or that whenever issues came up or if it was ok to change something or if she needed help with Mom. He was good that way and would let her know if that was fine or not, he liked that sort of thing.

He had had such a hard time; his body gave him no rest and robbed him of whatever dignity he tried to maintain. She would pretend that she didn’t notice anything and he would pretend that nothing happened. It was their way of caring. They both knew that time was getting shorter and shorter and that each day was a gift. He never complained or took it out on her. Whenever there was a problem, she would quietly talk to the nurses before leaving, out of sight from him, letting them know if he was having difficulties. She didn’t want to embarrass him; he had so little left that was his.

When her mother-in-law passed, he held her hands and mourned the loss along with her knowing how much she had loved her. He told her, choking on his emotions and words, saying “It’s ok my girl, she is resting now.” He was showing how much he loved her by trying to soften the pain, the only way he knew how. He wept with her and she loved him all the more for it. He had always been this way with her, always gentle. That was why it was so devastating to get the bill -no one had told her that they were going to bury him the next weekend.