Jun 20, 2009

What constitutes a home?

I live in a very pretty house that overlooks a lake. I loved this house. Until June 1. The house hasn't changed. The lake is still gorgeous. I still have a pretty decent job. The kitchen still is too tiny for two people to cook in. That was ok, because we both squeezed in together to cook and clean up after meals. Now the kitchen is just a small kitchen with a dingy floor. I still walk the dog early in the am, absorbing all the smells and beauty that is alive at that early hour. But nonone is there to wake me up with that cup of joe that I treasure to say "Wakey wakey". The beautiful bedroom with the balcony is still there. Auggie sits in the second chair with me now. My dog and I. I see the heel print in the bathtub from your heavy foot when we found out there was no subfloor the hardway. This is now just the place I am residing. Maybe time will heal, who knows. Maybe God has another plan for me. Nobody got it, we could have slept in a tent and it would have been our home, as long as your sleeping bag was right next to mine. This grieving process is new to me. I wish someone could have prepared me for just how fucking hard it is. My soul is homeless.


Lou said...

I'm sure you have conversations in that early morning time with him.

There are stages of grief. I learned about them when I "lost" my son to addiction. I was told it is a similar process. But I can hold out hope, and I can pray for a different outcome. Your outcome is irrevocable, but one thing is the same. You have to take it one day at a time also. Lean on your support, whoever they are. That is what real friends are for. Sometimes it can be a relief to cry on another human's shoulder.

God Bless, I don't know what else to say.

Lori said...


Just knowing, just like addicts, that you have a support system makes a huge difference. Plus I have a 19 year old that keeps me motivated to keep on going. It is hard. Tomorrow is Father's Day. Just got home from work and I have to be back at work tomorrow at 10am. I have never been afraid of hard work, but I catch myself snapping at people quicker than normal, and I hate it when I do that. Just knowing that people do care makes a huge difference. I am glad I have gotten to know you and learn about your life. Stay strong and be well.

the walking man said...


First let me tell you that in 2006 I went to 9 funerals, including my mother, who was a kind woman but only one of 3, that year, that were from "natural causes."

I told you that because of what I am about to say.

I do not grieve for the dead.

They are asleep in a perfect sleep, waiting the event that ends time and opens eternity to all. The trillions that have lived and died through the ages simply put; sleep a deep dreamless sleep in the houses of the dead waiting for a resurrection.

In one form or another every tradition of religious thought, be it Eastern or Western, agrees on this. That there is more beyond this mortal life.

The funerals and the wakes and the grief is for and about the living left in the waves of a loved ones passing into the sleep.

It is a normal thing to question what next, to ask where do I go now and how do I fill this new emptiness. Everyone finds their own answer to the questions, some by never moving beyond the fact that their lover has died.

I don't think you are of that type but it is still to recent of an event. One that happened rather quickly and came relatively from out nowhere and took him quick. To quickly from your and Jesse's perspective, you had no time to prepare and get used to the idea.

Ask yourself this, "What would Kenny want me to do?" You knew the man intimately so you know what the answer is and I don't think it would have anything to do with looking at the space you inhabit now as less of a home than the one you two had at the end of this life for him.

Yes, B'more was where the majority of your time together was but where do the best of the memories lie? I am willing to bet that they reside in wherever it was that you two were together. Place not being a condition.

This one thing I have learned; That as long as there is one alive who remembers Kenny with love he will be well and yet alive. Two, three generations from now, when all of us are long forgotten and sleep in the houses of our ancestors let them question where and why. But for now just being remembered in love is enough to allow him to live a bit longer.

You will come to the place of peace Lori, so will Baggy Pants, for that is what we who live on must do. And you my dear buddy have already lived the days of turmoil.

Let your heart feel what it feels, and allow your emotion to be what it is. cry when you will and laugh when you do, it is alright. Because when you do these things you are again doing them from your love, with your love. Be Well, stay safe, and love earnestly.


Lori said...

Place not be a condition...Hmmm, something I think I need to ponder. Hard. Kenny moved me here for a reason Mark. I know what those reasons were Mark. Maybe even though he isn't still here, the destiny can still be fulfilled. I do believe that there is something way beyond our comprehension. Grieving is for the living. He died with his eyes open Mark. When they were still working on him, it was for me, not for him. He was somewhere far away and I saw it and felt it. He was simply tired. I saw peace after many weeks of so much pain and suffering. You are right. Grieving is for the living who still miss and yearn. I am operating under the "Fake it till you make it" mode. It's working a bit. I am sorry you experienced so many losses in such a short period of time. Somewhere in tapestry that is woven, one day we will all figure it out when it is our time.

butterflies said...

Hi Lori
Im a first time reader and I dont believe in coincidences.

My beautiful husband died in my arms 28 mths ago.It still feels like yesterday.Im still in the fake it mode altho I sometimes even convince myself that Im ok..who knows maybe I am.I have good days.
Before I met him he had used speed every day for 20 yrs.He was not a used up junkie and he worked every day.But he was an addict..He had been clean for 2 yrs when we met and he believed that God sent him an angel (me)..
He was American and Im a New Zealander.We adored each other and as you say so elequently we could have slept in a tent as long as our sleeping bags were next to each other.
He got cancer..
He wanted to bring me home to my family.he wanted to do it before he got too sick.For us to build a nest together so he could die knowing I was safe.
He was told he had 6 mths to live and he lived 4 more yrs.
He loved our place here.,
Last yr I took some of his ashes back to his family but I could not face coming home.I was afraid of the house that we made with love..it took me a yr before I was ready to come home.
I feel him here with me.I talk to his pic.
Im not grieving anymore.I know hes not suffering and I wanted him to be released from his pain.
My pain gets a little less each day.
The only thing I know to be a true saying is that time IS the only thing that heals..
I promise you xx