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.

Unusual

You were unusual
One of a kind
Funny, funny looking and fabulous
All wrapped up in one.

You were unusual
Terminally unique
Difficult and determined, yet devoted.
Steadfast until the end.

You were mine
We rocked this life
Thoroughly, totally and together
The all star dream team.

I am alone
You told me about the arcs of life
Beauty, belief and betterment.
Unusual, unconditional you.