Homebody: A House is not a Home

 

Two years ago, I moved from the New Jersey shore to the central part of the state.  Ross and I had lived in Barnegat, NJ for over twenty years. 

My new home is about half the size of my Barnegat house, which is perfect for me as a single person. Moving gave me the opportunity to downsize and declutter. 

Even though I parted with many things, this house is still filled with furniture, artwork, and many other things that Ross and I shared. 

Having said that, I still do not feel 100 percent at home here.  Home was with Ross. He will always be in my heart, but I miss being with him,  

Because Ross and I lived here twenty years ago, the area I moved to is not entirely new to me. There have been a lot of changes since then.  It’s more built up, busier with much more traffic. I’ve had to reacquaint myself with the locations of doctors, stores, hair salons, and the like. 

I live in a gated community with over 2,000 units. There are many interests and activities offered.  I haven’t joined in and I don’t know if I ever will.  

This has been a long winter.  I’ve become something of a homebody.  I picture my hermit self one of these days stepping out of my cave in Birkenstocks, disheveled, wearing watercolor-paint-stained clothes,  hair matted into dreadlocks.

Maybe that day will come.  Or maybe this is what this time of my life looks like.  

A smaller house.  A quieter life. Family nearby.  And a home filled with loving memories,  

 Grief

 

You’d think I’d be an old hand at grief by now.

 

My mother, who passed away in 2009, spent the last months of her life on hospice in our home. She had many difficult times throughout her life. She raised six children during challenging financial circumstances. As I mentioned in a previous post, her marriage to my father was not easy. She didn’t drive and depended on him a great deal. At the time, I didn’t understand how hard it must have been for her when he passed away.

 

My son, Joe, passed away 16 years ago from colon cancer. He was 34 years old—newly married, with their first child on the way when he was diagnosed. I have written through this loss for 16 years.

 

Ross was a magical time in my life. I have written hundreds and hundreds of words about this amazing man. In 2019, he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. I was his caregiver until he passed away in 2024.

 

Of course, there have been other losses. They are all sad, each in its own way. None can be compared to another.

 

Needless to say, my son’s passing probably hit me the hardest.

 

Now that I am a widow, though, I have gained an enormous amount of understanding, compassion, and respect for my mother. I feel her presence every day now. It’s as if she is here, supporting me as only a mother can.

Four Letter Words

 

I believe I'm a little unique.  I never use curse words.  They just are not part of my vocabulary.  

 

I'm not just talking about the ones that prime-time network television won't allow.  

 

No, no, I mean words like hell and damn, or bathroom humor words. Oh my, it took a lot to even write those.   

 

Perhaps it has something to do with me being the oldest of six.  Along with being my parent's experiment, like eldest kids are, I was probably also the most well behaved.   I did what I was told and tried not do what I shouldn't.  

 

Or maybe it was my Catholic upbringing.  You know having to confess such things, starting at age 7. 

 

At this point if anyone close to me heard any of those words come out of my mouth, they would probably be shocked and stare at me wordlessly. 

 

Now don't get me wrong, I'm okay with others using colorful language.  In fact, I appreciate the impact the most famous "F" word can have. 

I do understand it.  There are moments when those words seem to say exactly what nothing else quite can. 

 

The past few years have been tough for me. I probably have caregiver’s PTSD along with some pent-up emotions that go along with it. 

 

My sister recently advised me to try letting go a little. She said it's very @#$%ing freeing!

 

Perhaps I will go to the ocean one day and try it out. 