In one of my previous posts, I mentioned the two-part end of an era that I am facing. The first being the loss of my father. The second loss is almost as deep.
For anyone who has left and gone elsewhere or come from elsewhere, leaving behind the familiar like their hometown, you were smart. You were smart to go out into the world and find a spot for yourself. I wish I had moved further away, but I opted not to, feeling like I had an obligation. With my father's departure, I feel like sometime in the near future, I can stamp my bill "Paid in Full."
But, it's not that easy. Not only did I say goodbye to him, I have to say goodbye to home. They say that home is where your heart is. My heart beats in two places. Here in my small cozy apartment in a historic neighborhood where my bedroom windows look out on a fountain that gushes water nine months out the year. Shaded by old trees with deep roots. And kind and caring neighbors.
My heart also beats in my parents' home. The structure where I was welcomed from day one. Where my parents brought me after the hospital. To an 11-year-old sister who looked upon me as a new doll baby ready to be spoiled. It was home. It was the home where I took my first steps across the hard-wood floors. The one where I was fed. The one I came home to after school, from kindergarten to high school, then to college, then from my second home. New Years toasts, Easter egg hunts, birthdays, pimples, dreams, changing body, and last farewells. And most of all the Christmases when family came together to celebrate the passing of the year.
How do you say goodbye to a physical place where soon you can only drive by and say "I grew up there"? And you pray that someone loves it as mush as you did.
I made the choice to leave it, so I have no one to blame but myself. I fear the change. I resist it. But, I also have hope for the future.
I stand facing the end of two eras. My father and the home where I felt safe and always welcome.
It's rough, but I will carry on.
CSM
For anyone who has left and gone elsewhere or come from elsewhere, leaving behind the familiar like their hometown, you were smart. You were smart to go out into the world and find a spot for yourself. I wish I had moved further away, but I opted not to, feeling like I had an obligation. With my father's departure, I feel like sometime in the near future, I can stamp my bill "Paid in Full."
But, it's not that easy. Not only did I say goodbye to him, I have to say goodbye to home. They say that home is where your heart is. My heart beats in two places. Here in my small cozy apartment in a historic neighborhood where my bedroom windows look out on a fountain that gushes water nine months out the year. Shaded by old trees with deep roots. And kind and caring neighbors.
My heart also beats in my parents' home. The structure where I was welcomed from day one. Where my parents brought me after the hospital. To an 11-year-old sister who looked upon me as a new doll baby ready to be spoiled. It was home. It was the home where I took my first steps across the hard-wood floors. The one where I was fed. The one I came home to after school, from kindergarten to high school, then to college, then from my second home. New Years toasts, Easter egg hunts, birthdays, pimples, dreams, changing body, and last farewells. And most of all the Christmases when family came together to celebrate the passing of the year.
How do you say goodbye to a physical place where soon you can only drive by and say "I grew up there"? And you pray that someone loves it as mush as you did.
I made the choice to leave it, so I have no one to blame but myself. I fear the change. I resist it. But, I also have hope for the future.
I stand facing the end of two eras. My father and the home where I felt safe and always welcome.
It's rough, but I will carry on.
CSM
You are right--that is a great home with a lot of love. I love that neighborhood and that street (We moved back there to raise our own kids). We will miss your dad so very much and let's hope that house will host another loving family. Thinking of you all,
ReplyDeleteSusan Akers