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Sunday, July 8, 2012

Home is Where You Are

Thursday evening we met the single mother who will be caretaking for our home while we are away. Initially the plan had been discussed to have my friend Jaycee and her friend come and stay in our house while they are transferring to Colorado, but that had soon fallen through. Then the opportunity for a graduate student of Dan's to live with us was made possible, and we were thrilled. He was single, a good student, and an Eagle Scout who posted pictures of the James Taylor concert on his Facebook page. What was not to love.
 As time passed though, the student expressed concern about living in two places at once, seeing as his girlfriend was renting a home near to campus and our home was not within walking distance to the school. So that person fell through.
We have pets, so it is not as if we could have closed up the house and run everything off into the woords. That's just not the way we roll. We have a dog, a cat, six very healthy fish and a rather sweet-tempered leopard gecko. We thought of hiring our neighbor to care for the animals, but running back and forth across the street every day would in a word get annoying.
One of the students recommended that we meet N., a young single woman with two children ages 8 and 10. She was between jobs, on Welfare, and her ex was not available to readily help with the bills. At first acquaintance I was anxious...she is not someone I would not have chosen at first sight to take care of all of our earthly possessions. But then I remembered...my friend had graciously offered to take all of the really important things that we would miss. Art projects, wedding dress, photo albums, computer hard drives and other items. Some irreplaceable. But then I thought about all of the things I've collected over the years...my shells, the bird nests, the driftwood and seaglass, bits of antique pottery that dot my kitchen window sill. The pounds and pounds of vintage laces that I have coll- ected over the decades of marriage, which all eventually, with all good intention, make it into another art project or sewing attempt. Having been a bit of an obsessive thrift and consignment store shopper, I have impressed myself with my particular sense of style. Star Wars books from the 70s, hand-stitched linens from France, beautiful china and stoneware from Shenango and Syracuse, beaded abd embroidered bags and purses, crocheted blankets, feathers.
Could those be replaced?
Well...of course the answer is Yes. So the boxes and bags and bins and containers and tins will not be joining the wedding dress and the pearl necklace and earrings of my mother's. Because in the end...everything is replaceable.
What I need to remember is that the most important possessions I own: my children and my husband, will be with me. Our home is replaceable.
In church today they shared a video of the Samaritan's Purse organization help clean up the burned-out homes that had been devastated by the High Park fires in Northern Colorado. These volunteers would mask up and glove up, some wearing coveralls, and painstakingly sift through acres of burnt ash and possessions, trying to preserve anything of personal value that the homeowners might have assumed were lost.
In tears I watched as a Samaritan's Purse volunteer came running to a woman being interviewed on the foundation of her mother's home. She breathlessly opened her palm and inside was a small bent gold ring, thin as piano wire.
It had been her mother's.
I need to have that image of rejoicing at the things gained, when they were considered permanently lost. I have no concept as to what will have while we are gone, I am confident that the woman will be responsible with our home, but in the meantime, I have peace.
And I will have my most prized possessions, and nothing else needs to survive. Because home is wherever they are.

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