Coming Home


My BFF’s mom died this past Saturday.  Sunday I was planning on going home to Atlanta, but went back to N. Alabama instead.  Several people have come by the house. I was invited to a dinner with the Backwood Babes bible study. I was able to spend time with some of my peeps.  I was told by more than one person that I looked better, relaxed, “myself”, the “Mojo they used to know”.  I thought, Hmmmm….

I feel better. The beach has been very good for me.  The long walks in the water.  The long talks with God.  The playful, free times of the purity of the dogs.  Finding little treasures along the way.  My family who has just loved me where I was.

 Today I went and visited my stuff in the storage unit. I was a little anxious driving by my old street.  At the unit I thought “my whole world is in here – everything I have is piled up and shoved in here” and then immediately I thought “no, it’s not. This is just stuff. My world is the People who love me”. I mean, I’m 40something years old and all my possession are in a closet. I have no job.  I have no home.  But I really don’t care, because that isn’t the stuff that matters. I can have a roof over my head and I can put all that stuff in it. But I want, and must have, love to live.

It’s good to be able to feel it again. I know it was there the whole time- and it is what got me through this recent nightmare of my life. It is what provided for me.  When I could not walk, it was Love that carried me – that is when I saw only one set of footprints in the sand.  The love and prayers of my friends and family, f2f and internet, and prayer-chains everywhere.  But now I can feel it. I can give it again and that feels so good.

I knew it would happen. I knew I’d get here – but I never knew when. I just didn’t know when to expect it.  I wondered if I could ever trust again – specifically a man.  I’m not there yet, but I am not closed to that thought any more.  I knew I was getting better.  I was talking the other night about some of Daddy Booboo’s recent namecalling when  I realized – he can’t hurt me any more.  Now, understand, I am still hurt by what he did – I’m not 100%.  But, now, he truly cannot hurt me any more. His words bounce off.  We laugh at his monthly scripture on his alimony checks where he finds something in the bible to accuse me with.  When I endorse those checks, I write back Ex 20:14 and laugh.  I have reached the point where the scab has fallen off and there is just pink, soft, tender skin underneath.  I am healed, but I still need time to toughen up. I didn’t know when I would realize it – but it happened today.  I went from “knowing I’d be OK” to “knowing I am OK”.  Verbs are powerful words.

I’m finally home.

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