springfield heart

I miss home.  I miss home, I miss the smells in my mother’s kitchen, I miss my dad sitting in his chair.  I miss my room, I miss the violet room.  I spent my last days as a single woman there.

Today my friend Karen, who I love, and who lives next door to my family home, wrote me about the people who are living there now.  A family who has cut down my mother’s magnolia tree.  The tree she and my daddy drove back from the south, a Carolina or Georgia I think, to plant in our baCk yard.  The same back yard where my beloved Collie, Cricket is buried.  the same back yard where I sat and read my Ribsy books as a girl.  The same back yard my Daddy grew his tomatoes and peppers in next to the garage.  NO one understands like Karen and I do.  My heart is a huge hole missing that home.

On the weekend my mother died, two magnolias bloomed.  One for her and one for Daddy.  He died 6 months earlier.  It only bloomed one time  before.  but this weekend two blooms.  One for each of them.  Karen took one to her grave after the funeral, we put one at her casket at the wake.

Karen said the flowers are all gone too, they took them all out.  My irises, my momma’s astilbe, her clematis.  Her roses, her lilacs, the peonies.  my heart is gutwrenched.  I wanted to die my days in that house somehow.   I wanted that garden.  I wanted my home.

I know our resources are here but I haVe always hated it here with a passion.  I like my job, my work.  The pups have what they need here.  I still hate it here.  I want my home.  I want my home.  I want my comfort.  I want to be comforted by being in that house, by being in that living room, that den, that kitchen.  I want to have that because I have no one to comfort me in this hellhole of a place.  I love my house here, I love my garden, but I hate this place, does that make sense?  I don’t have friends, I am so lonely, there is no one to lean on, to comfort me when I hurt.  The neighbors are the most GAWDawful people, with the exception of some.  STEPFORD wives.   Wannabees.  I want to be home, not here.

I miss 829 South Walnut street and my home.  I miss my family. .