HOME: (noun)
a. a house, apartment, or other shelter that is the usual residence of a person,
family or household
b. the place in which one's domestic affections are centered
c. any place of residence or refuge" a heavenly home"
(adverb)
a. to, toward, or at home: to go home
b. deep; to the heart: the truth of the accusation struck home
(verb)
a. to go or return home
b. to have a home where specified; reside
Synonyms: abode, dwelling, habitation, hearth, fireside or asylum
It's a four letter word
A place you go to heal your hurt
It's an alter, it's a shelter
One place you're always welcome...
A pink flamingo, double wide
One bedroom in a high rise,
A mansion on a hill
Where the memories always will
Keep you company
Whenever you're alone...
After all of my running
I'm finally coming-HOME
~Coming Home-Country Strong~
When I was a child I wasn't happy with the home I grew up in. It was not a happy place. I actually ran away when I was 6 years old. I made it to the neighbors house. Of course, Jo Beth, was called and I got into even more trouble that I was in before. My home became a happier place once Jo Beth died when I was 9 years old. I thought it had become a better place to be when I got a step mom and step siblings. It became a place of unhappy memories and I just wanted to get out and away from home as fast as I could.
I knew growing up what I wanted in a home and what I didn't want MY home to be like. I tried very hard over the years to make my home a place where my family could be safe, and find peace, rest, comfort and fun. A shelter from whatever life brought our way. I always enjoyed going "home" to Bill's mom's for Christmas. It always felt like home. The smells and sounds, all the decorations made it feel safe and happy.
My home now is something much different than I ever imagined it to be. It has become my refuge. My private sanctuary. A place where I don't have to be someone I am not. I don't have to pretend that everything is right with the world when it will never be right again. I am very protective as to who comes in and out of my home now. I never dreamed I would be that way. My memories and treasures are too precious to share with just anyone. It is okay to ask about photos and Heather's piano. It is okay to ask about her ashes that sit on her piano. It is a very moving tribute to Heather in my living room.
" There are certain truisms in life. One of then is that is goes against the natural order of things to bury one's child. However, as bereaved mothers we can no longer believe in natural order. Our comfortable , secure lives, our innocence, all were shattered with the deaths of our children. Now our reality is upside down, inside out and far removed from what we thought it would be. Each day is a learning experience in a course we never signed up for, in a life we never anticipated."
My home has my private memories of Heather. I can open them up for an afternoon and cry all I want to over them. I don't have to apologize for my tears to anyone. I can be me. The new me as I struggle to get up and live day to day hour to hour without a very vital part of my life.
"We have discovered the sad truth that beyond our own circle there is very little realistic and substantive help for those who grieve the loss of a child. We have found a crushing lack of awareness and understanding among many whom we should have been able to depend upon such as medical personnel, clergy, social workers, bereavement counselors, and in some cases family and friends."
"Many family and friends take their cue from the pop culture of our times and tell us it is time to "get on with our lives" and find "closure." Indeed, since the horrors of 9/11, "closure" seems to have become the watchword of therapists, politicians, journalists and television analysts alike. These "civilians," our name for those who have not experienced the death of a child, have no idea what they are speaking about when they use this term. We the experts know all too well that there is no sure things as "closure" following the senseless and untimely death of a child."
As the months go by more and more people are wanting us to "get over" and "move on" after Heather's death. We have had lots of people suggest that Bill and I need counseling and therapy. I have said that I don't want a therapist that has book knowledge. I know they are very smart people and they have lots of experience. However, till you lose a child yourself you have no idea or clue what you are talking about. So, I want a counselor that has lost an older teen child. We can then see things eye to eye. Most of our friends and family think us crazy to talk about Heather and "dwell" on her the way we do. Bill and I have found great comfort in reading other CaringBridge sites and The Grieving Garden book. We are not the ones who are crazy.
"You will carry every detail of what happened throughout every day of your life, and you will forevermore categorize all events as occurring either "before" or "after" your child's death. The memory of your son or daughter is all that remains of them here on earth, and certainly if they were still alive you would think of them each day and worry about their well-being."
""There is no clear road map for the passing through parental bereavement. However, there is a path that takes us from relentless grief to what we now call "shadow grief." "Shadow grief" is always with us, but it is bearable...." Beyond Tears-a book written by 9 grieving mothers
Well they say it's where the heart is
And I guess the hardest part is
When your heart is broken
And you're lost out in the great wide open
Looking for a map
Finding your way back
To where you belong
Well that's where I belong-HOME
The world tried to break me
I found a road to take me-HOME
There ain't nothin but a blue sky now
After all of my running
I'm finally coming-HOME
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