Today as I headed out for my daily walk I passed the area of the tent camp where the homeless were evicted and I felt compelled to stop for a visit. No one is home anymore. It was kind of like visiting an "old home place" and you think back;
The Fireplace is ColdThere was the fire place, now cold, A abandoned chair is waiting for some one to sit in it and pick up a magazine from the stack beside the fireplace. I then thought of Maggie (see post 23) coming over from laying beside her food and water bowls (upper right from the fire place)and nudging you to get a ball to throw for her. As I looked up and left I noticed an abandoned tent. This tent was the guest house, where anyone in need was welcome to stay until better arrangements could be made. A tear wants to come to my eye.
As I walked around for a few more minutes, I noticed details about the camp I had never noticed before. These folks were resourceful, the used what was available to meet the need at hand. I was tempted to pick up some little trinket for a keepsake and remembrance. I know they would not have minded, as they always would share what they had, but I kept thinking, they might need that when they get back. Wishful thanking I guess.
I returned home tonight at 10:30 from the hospital. I checked to see today’s latest post after settling in and I wasn’t disappointed. I turned on the soft music and began to read. All too often, my mind wandered back to your image and its description. I abandoned the book and returned.
ReplyDeleteI too recently took a walk down memory lane at the home where my wife and I married and our children were born. For twelve years I made a home there. Happiness was abound for many, many years until drugs, adultery and ultimately a divorce led to foreclosure and finally eviction. I peered into the room where my little girls crib once sat. I imagined the chair that my wife and I sang lullabies and rocked her to sleep in. There on the floor is the spot where I lay beside her “big girl” bed with one eye open as she struggled with Swine Flu as her fever hovered too far above three-digits. The walls are pink. My heart is blue.
My children and I are in a new home now and although we are without the accompaniment of their mother, we are happy but each of us miss her dearly.
Loosing ones home is a terrible thing. Being kicked out adds more salt to the wound. There is always somewhere new for us though, and there is always are plan for us even when it may not seem so at the time. What matters is that we have our health and our loved ones; however one defines that. For me, it is my family. For others, it is their friends or pets as with Maggie.
As death looms ever-so-close to me about 90 miles south of here, it helps me to be able to put things in perspective.