Rainy reflections

She drives by the only home she’s ever known.  It’s nothing special to look at; it’s rather small and non-descript.  It’s the only safe and permanent place in the world to her.  Only it wasn’t permanent.  She’s no longer welcome there.  It’s no longer her home.  She can’t go into the kitchen and fix dinner.  She can’t take the soft green blanket with the worn silky edges and snuggle up on the sofa on this rainy day.  It is not her home.  The blinds on the picture window are open and she remembers what it feels like to be inside looking out that window at the cars going by and the occasional neighbor walking their dog…  The memories of safety and happiness fill her with sadness.  She’s desperate for hope.  Craziness mixed with that sense of desperation  wants to roll around in the grass there and pretend for a minute she still belongs there…  Let go of every common sense factor and pretend for just a moment that she ever really belonged there…

Home.  Maybe a new home will be home?  If she focused on gratitude for a bigger, beautiful home, with a big kitchen; if she created a garden of her own in the big back yard of that other house; if she fixed dinners, helped with homework, laughed and cried, lived and loved to the extent she was able.  If she worked at every detail, cleaned night and day, organized and arranged to perfection…until it became home.  That was the desperate hope she held onto today as she drove by that house which was no longer her home.  Could another, “better” home ever replace what she still felt was her home?  She prayed it could.  If not, then what?  Can’t think about that…  It had to.  And she would just keep going until it did. 

Rainy days always made her deeply reflect and she hoped she’d never have to look at that other house again.  She didn’t want those memories anyway.  They weren’t real.  It had all been an illusion.  As the people in her life carried on, she wondered what that felt like..  She watched other people live, try, lose, and fall in love.  Work, play, regret, embrace…  It could be done.  People did it every day. She just had to figure out how.

So many blessings to count.  So many things to forget.  Time moved slowly.  Plenty of time to count her beautiful blessings and great joys…

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