Home

Our rinky-dink of a first home.
The one you labeled: The Hobbit House. With it's ceilings a full 7 feet tall.
The home in the country, the directions as followed:
Get off the Freeway, Turn Right away from town. Drive past the dairy cows.
Turn Right at the pumpkin field. Pass the corn fields
and Right at the Romaine Tomatoes down the dirt road
toward the pheasant coops. .
The home with seasonal infestations:
Ticks in the summer,
Flies in the Fall,
Mice in the winter
and Lady Bugs in the spring.
Not to mention the wasps that we discovered you were allergic to!
The one where we would not be able to sleep due to the incessant howls
of the coyotes in the spring and summer
that you would chase off with your riffle shots out the bedroom window
when I got scared of how dangerously brave they had become.

The home where we would be woken up at the crack of dawn
By the thunderous blasts from the nearby hunters
gaming their pheasants in the colder seasons.

The house where I would wash dishes,
specifically at my favorite time of day.
Watching out the kitchen window
at the crop duster planes spraying the fields in our front yard.
The whole house rattling under the weight of the air pressure as it would soar overhead.
We'd laugh at the annoyances of them all.

Our first home is where we established the foundation of our marriage.
That first year.
The one where you pulled the mattress off the bed for a romantic night in.
Dinner in the living room under the covers.
The Notebook playing in the background....
The night that lead not to a night of sleep...
But to a spontaneous midnight adventure to the ocean
You forgot blankets.
We slept under a tarp from the back of your truck.
Holding each other under the stars,
The waves breaking in the background of our intimacy.
We were chased away in the morning by local law enforcement...
               something about a proctected beach?

In our first home we began to grow our family.
I made you stop because I saw a sign that read FREE
We got out and I instantly fell in love with the only gray one.
He had the fluffiest fur of them all.
You told me that we didn't need a cat and we drove away.
The next afternoon when I got home from work, you called me into the bedroom.
I sat on the bed next to you and out came my kitten from behind the bed's pillows!
Sneakers (named after his love of shoes)
proved valuable as he chased out the rodents and other infestations as best he could.
-AND-
When I ailed (of what we later learned was my first panic attack)
I called in ill from work
You came home early
Put me in the car.
Drove me to Jersey Street. and gave me my pick
Our pup became a favored companion.
I fell in love with her, her breed. How smart she was!
We'd take her for twilight walks around the surrounding marsh
and watch her chase the bullfrogs back into their springs
unleashed.


The house where I discovered you were struggling with alcohol...
I would come home early,
or late
you'd still be away.
I would wait for you.
You would come home drunk
my disappointment was evident.
Your shame would push me aside emotionally...physically
and hide in the bedroom.
Broken glass. Broken hearts.
A cry, a prayer.

That was the year GOD made himself real to me.
That was when I realized I could not put my trust in you.
My family told me to leave,
"everyone would understand"
"You've been married for less than a year."

The home where we first heard from the Lord.
A vision of premonition.
Me on my knees before the cross
The Lord came alongside you, on a hill, overlooking...watching.
"where are you?" He asked. "Why is your wife weeping at my feet...
alone...?"

That was the home that I made a decision.
A decision to stay.
A decision to work it out against all odds.
That is when I put my trust in God, and not in man.

When we left the Hobbit house.
One year and one week later.
You built a fire outdoors,
we made love in the tall, unkempt grass.
We watched the sunset over the tomato fields.
and stared at the stars until the mosquitoes scared us indoors.

Four houses and nine years later,
you are becoming the man I knew you could be.
You are rising to the occasion.
You are listening to your calling.
You are my husband.
In any home.
But I will forever cherish the memories, the foundation that was built in our first home.