July 5, 2023

“There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home,” says Dorothy in “The Wizard of Oz,” as she clicks the heels of her ruby slippers together three times and magically finds herself back home in Kansas. What I wouldn’t give if “going home” could be as magical and as simple as that. The old saying says, “Home is where the heart is,” but for a very long time now, I have not at all been sure where home would be, or if a broken heart can even have a home. And what I need right now, more than anything else, is a place that my heart, mind, and soul can call “home.”

I’m not talking about the actual physical structure we call our home. That is easy to find. I am there every day … alone. No, what I am missing are all the things that go with a love story of 27 years that turns that man-made structure from a house into a home. Things like knowing what made my husband tick. Or the silly, mundane things that we talked about each day — the things no one else cared about at all. It was knowing that there was always someone who had my back. Someone who would support me, without question, no matter what the personal or monetary cost. It was, in the end, that warm sense of familiarity, security, and rapport that just seemed to happen with no apparent effort on either of our parts. Things that happened because then, when I knew what “home” was, it was just the way things worked.

But, for the last two years since Brian died, there has been no more of that. Things that had seemed to automatically just happen, because, well, that was how it worked, now just don’t exist at all. Everything I counted on has changed to “what was.” Every last thing has changed. Things like his smile across the table at mealtimes. The one without words that said, “This is great! Thanks for making it!” It was his hand placed softly in the small of my back that silently conveyed the message, “I’m here. Don’t worry. I’ll support you. It’s all good.” It’s the hugs that helped me through all the tough times, and celebrated all of the good times. It’s the feel of his body next to mine each night, that not only warmed me physically, but reached into my heart and soul, warming them as well. Simply put, it is all of the familiarity. The routines. The predictability. The unconditional love we shared. Those are the things that for me were “home.”

So, yes, I want . . . no, I need to go home. My heart aches for an idea that can only be a sweet, unreachable memory now. All are memories now: The things we shared that grounded me and gave me a sense of security and the feeling of being home. Home in body, mind, and soul.

In the end, I try to remember that it took us 27 years to grow together as husband and wife, and I can’t expect my poor, broken heart to heal overnight.

Do you know?
Have you not heard?
He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the Lord
will renew their strength,
They will soar on wings, like eagles:
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.
Isa. 40:28-31
   ``````````````````````````````````````````

Be strong now because
things will get better.
It might be stormy now,
but it can't rain forever.
Anonymous 

Sometimes when you're in a dark place you think you've been buried, but you've actually been planted.
```` Christine Caine