Thursday, August 25, 2011

home is wherever we are, together

it's empty now.

and in the silence i can finally hear the seven years of life that fill this house.

amid the walls and empty floors, it vibrates like a tuning fork pitched at a frequency only we can feel.

relative to the actual years, it seems like we've done a disproportionate amount of living and dying here. transformed are two very young children, replaced by a wary, irascible teenager and a brash, unabashed contessa in a leotard. the quiet air is full of their angst and energy and electricity.

passed on are a couple high-revving hamsters, an affectionate adopted cat, and two well-loved, still-missed dogs. they were all part of the ship, part of the crew~and when their time came, they were mourned as part of the family.

their life force is here, entwined with that of three more dogs and the very-old cat who is still with us and has been, seemingly, forever.

so many creatures, so many bright lights showing us the way...somewhere.

if only our souls could be still long enough to follow.

this is a happy place, mostly. made that way by the person who insisted she liked the house the least. with relentless resolve, the missus eventually turned an awkward, outdated little abode into a confident, elegant home. the house purred at her touch, and it occurs to me that you can't infuse a place with this much joie de vivre without loving it deeply.

**********

it's taken five days to disengage from here, a herculean effort i'm not sure will be manageable again in this lifetime. the days of hefting tightly packed boxes melted into late nights emptying a large truck long after dark. our fatigue is physical and metaphysical and to the bone.

**********

the walls echo every sound now, complaining of the emptiness.

i feel it, too.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oh, how lovely, Michael. You have such a sweet, poetic soul. Thinking of Raleigh and Gunner made me think of Penelope, which in turn has made me a little weepy and sad. I do not look forward to when it's time for us to move, finally, to a home that's more fitting of our current wants and needs.

That silence grabs hold of your core, and settles in for a long while ... but your new home will soon be filled with happiness and laughter, and new memories. They'll be fine companions to the memories already there.

spaceneedl said...

thanks, dolly. it's been a melodramatic few days. fatigue makes everything more, um, interesting, doesn't it?

Fish and Bicycles said...

Loved this:

"transformed are two very young children, replaced by a wary, irascible teenager and a brash, unabashed contessa in a leotard. the quiet air is full of their angst and energy and electricity."

It's a kind of haunting, isn't it? Only, without the ectoplasm.

spaceneedl said...

thanks, howard. it felt haunt-like. there was much free-floating emotion in the air.