It’s our last night in the rental. Sorry to let it go; it’s been comfortable, like an old sweater. Unfortunately, our house isn’t ready. Spent the better part of this week moving what we need to exist for the next month or so to the basement apartment of an empty house, (it’s being renovated.) Nice place. Phase two of temporary digs. Tomorrow, this computer gets sent to the basement. Wonder if there’s internet down there? If you don’t hear from me for a month, you’ll know the answer. Figured I better write tonight.
I was at the new house today, planting trees. Been landscaping for several weeks now. After all the moving madness, I would have given my back a break, but I’m running out of time. The window for fall planting is rapidly closing. As I’m sure you can predict, I was listening to my iPod. (Time for an aside, hang in there, it might be a while.) I’ve been trying to write this blog all week. The idea has been there from the beginning but the words haven’t. Last night, looking for a little inspiration, I was listening to music and looking up lyrics. I landed on the Foo Fighter’s song, Home; that was it, the perfect line. It said it all:
All I want is to be home.
As a result of BK’s work transfers, this is the fourth house in a row we’ve built. It’s never an easy process, but this one has been really tough. If I go to the heart of it, it isn’t so much the permit problems or weather delays, or whatever postponement issues we’ve encountered that have made the process so difficult; it’s the ache, the need to find my way home. I’ll let you in on a secret, we were a smidg grateful to leave our old place. (Godview, by name.) We all loved it once, but that was before there were ghosts walking the halls. It was tough to go anywhere in the house and not remember a time with Rory. And my Mom’s apartment, a beautiful little attached number, felt like a tomb. We offered it, free of charge, to several people. Young people who brought it back to life. The three people who ended up living in it did me a huge favor, but it didn’t erase it all. It hurt to live there. So, as much of a blow as it was to have to move away from a town I love, it was a bit of a blessing to be able to get out of that house.
(Still asiding away for myself.) BK and I are homebodies. It’s our comfort place. Especially when our children gather there. We’ve been looking at the new house, (given the moniker, Chateau de Cinq,) as a fresh start. A place to feel comfort again. Never have we needed to be home so badly. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for a roof over our heads, in whatever form it comes; but of all the houses we’ve built, I don’t think we’ve ever understood so deeply the pull of home like we do with this one. Unfortunately, for reasons I understand and a few I don’t, we have to wait some more. If it goes to Dec., which is a possible scenario, it will be almost a year since we signed on the dotted line.
The idiom is right, home is where the heart is. Mine has been there for some time, it’s just waiting for my body to be allowed to come in too.
(Aside has officially ended. To recap…) As I’m sure you can predict, I was listening to my iPod. While I was drinking in the front of the house, trying to decide where to put a Crape Myrtle, Home, came on my shuffle. I had to pause and turn my attention to the music. Having just read the lyrics the night before, there was no doubt it was speaking to me. I listened:
People I’ve loved
I have no regrets
Some I remember
Some I forget
Some of them living
Some of them dead.
All I want is to be home.
Thanks for letting me be indulgent this time around. I wasn’t kidding about the internet, hopefully, we’ll have access, if not, I’ll post when I can. In any case, you know where you can find me, I’m homebound.
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