Our House, Our Home

Late this evening I went to our house.  Like a river bursting through a dam, pulling into the driveway brought forth a rush of memories.  I sat for a while, just staring.  I imagined lights on in the windows, illuminating the warmth of a home.  I saw Blotter and Brady press their noses to the window; Ryan waiting inside, his face lit by the glow of the television, dinner warming on the stove.  I remembered summer, the feelings of normalcy that surrounded our everyday happenings.  We spent hours sitting on the porch, drinking wine, watching traffic and enjoying each other’s company.  Often we’d leave the dogs outside to enjoy the afternoon sun.  Upon returning home, their eager heads would pop over the fence, tails wagging, tongues out. I saw us smiling, living an easy life, going through the happy motions of a comfortable and content existence.  An existence that seems unreachable now, trapped inside our home.

This home is haunted with our life.  While I sat outside, my body was overwhelmed by images that my mind knew were not really there, no longer real.  I imagined that once inside, everything would look the same, smell the same, be the same.  Everything I knew was inside that home and I wanted it all back, would climb the highest mountain to get it back.  Then I remembered, I wasn't looking at our life or our home.  I was looking at an empty, cold house, curtains drawn and walls bare.  I thought to myself, this is not our home, this is not our life.  These things live in my memory and go with me wherever I am.  All I need to do is close my eyes and remember that smirk, those sideburns and feeling safe, loved and happy.  Then I heard a song, one we listened to often during our house’s transformation to a home…

Come to me now
And rest your head for just five minutes
Everything is good
Such a cozy room
The windows are illuminated
By the sunshine through them
Fiery gems for you
Only for you...