I had been back home before after my little fairytale family broke up in 2001. It was also my first time home since I left after high school, but I didn’t come alone. I left as one and was back as two – me and my then 14 month old daughter. I remember how weird it was being back home because my only relation to home was how it was when I left. Although I was far from a child and a mother myself, it was still ‘Momma’s’ house and I didn’t expect that her rules would be any different. The arrogant me that left was replaced with the humble me that understood the reason behind my mother’s passionate ways. In any event, my mom and I needed that time together to reconcile, and in 2004 I was back off on my own again. I hated leaving because the thought of refreshing my mother’s memory with departure was taunting, but I had to move on.
When I came back in 2012 it was under different circumstances. My mom had become a foster/adoptive parent a few years prior. Her once serene home was full of kids and pets….utter chaos! My daughter, who was then 12, was pulling away from me and pushing herself into my mother’s house. It was a constant fight for me and they were tag teaming me. My daughter telling me how much she hates our home and how she wished she lived with my mother, and my mother telling me how me making her stay home was punishment….WTH! Fed up with the wrestling match, I opted for a compromise and decided to move back to the neighborhood. She owned a house, two blocks away from her that she used as rental property. It had been vacant for a while and the ‘locals’ had broke in it for the copper. My intention was to stay with her while I put this house back together. All in all, I was back home….again….to reconcile….but this time she left.
My mother passed on a little over six months later from cancer…
In reality, I left when she passed. Life as I known it was no longer existent for I had become her. My day-to-day with one daughter and a cat was now three daughters (sorta) and three dogs! The cat was at the ‘other’ house along with all my belongings except a few articles of clothing. For months I lived this extraneous life that wasn’t my own while trapped in the misery of remembrance of a home that will never be….I hated staying, so I moved on
I moved into the ‘other’ house as initially planned…Anxious to have a place to call ‘home’ again….
I’ve been in my money pit house for a year and a half. Reunited with my cat and down to one dog, but I haven’t completely unpacked and settled in…maybe because my heart isn’t here….