I have been going over everything in my mind a thousand times and I’m still struggling to find the right words, the right feelings to make it all make sense. But I’m afraid that no matter what I do none of this will ever make sense or be made clear in my mind. 

We gathered around a fire and said our quiet goodbyes, well.. We tried to.. In the midst of all the heartbreak that evening we had to sit there and listen to the wicked woman causing this pain scream at us across the yard in the dark of night. 

We were quiet, respectful and just trying to enjoy one last evening like we had for so many years, feet up on crumbly bricks, the crackling of the wood burning. What was supposed to be a night of closure, took a dark turn, for me. 

Listening to this crazy woman scream at us from her front porch that she was going to call the cops, how dare we be on private property.. Among many many other strange comments, my favorite being, are you setting my fire on fire… like seriously woman are you that sad and that alone, that angry that we couldn’t have one night in peace. 

All i wanted was to sit across from my family and friends, take in their smiles, their memories of this place, take one last deep breath under the same stars i’ve looked up at for my 31 years. But I robbed myself of that. I couldn’t handle the anger coming from the other side. I began getting angry, upset and completely torn. I pushed myself way too far, and drank myself into a puking mess. Noted, 5 ciders, half a bottle of fireball, and a tequila shot are not a good combination for someone who really doesn’t drink much. 

I completely robbed myself of the calm goodbye i wanted that night, part of me is pissed, and the other part understands that under the immense amount of pressure i had been feeling for the months, hell, years leading up to this, i let go for one night, and deserved it. 

Fast forward, I feel better and laugh off my failure to navigate a path to the yard to puke my guts out after throwing myself on the ground due to an untimely meeting between my feet and a stump… I’m there helping dad on the last day/ night. It was miserable, so much stuff had to be left behind. We would have been lost without some of our family and friends in those last 24 hours. I think I finally made it home around 130 or 2 in the morning, but couldn’t sleep. I was so worried about my dad getting out of there. 

Before I left I took a moment to walk through the house one last time. I stared into my childhood bedroom, and all I could see were the posters and pictures that should have been on the walls. I walked down the hallway and turned the lights off one last time. And bawled my eyes out. I walked down those stairs for the last time and stood in the front doorway. My hand on the frame, and thanked this structure, this building for being my home. I said a thank you to my grandparents for making that place a gathering spot for all those we loved near and far for so many years. A thank you to my parents for giving me a wonderful childhood under that roof, where I could wake up, look out the window and see my horses grazing in the pasture below. And then I walked away and didn’t look back.

I feel like someone has died. Like I am in mourning for a soul. Which is pretty fitting, it was the soul of our family. The always constant, always a light on, always home. With all of the grief i have taken on in the past few years im finding it extremely hard to face it head on, I’d much rather just bury it and pretend it’s no issue. But that is tearing me apart from the inside. They say that time heals, but these wounds feel so deep that i’m not sure they will ever heal, i’m not sure i will ever heal…

I didn’t know what I was expecting, but what happened surely wasn’t it. Im still processing, this honestly has been the first time i’ve thought about it deeper than it just happened. This is the first time I’ve cried since I said goodbye. 

I’ll fight to get there. I will, for everyone who ever got to call that place home, and share a drink around the fire.