Getting over Vivian . . .

I can still emit tears.  The heart hurts a little.  There is nothing like leaving your childhood home, forever.  2605 Vivian Street.  I went back recently, like inside of it. Thirty years later.  The people who had owned it for so many years got old and moved out and there it sat, weary for the years.  But the still-single-paned, back porch french doors were unlocked and welcomed me to enter, like arms ready with a hug after a long trip.  When I entered I instantly turned back in time, to the age of about 7.  I heard my mom rustling in the kitchen and saw my brother sitting on the floor too close to the tv.  I sensed my father upstairs in his yellow bathrobe, smoking a cigarette, taking his time. . .Ghosts.

The way I have endeavored to get over Vivian, is to have my own home and family.  It is sacred to me.  It is a part of who my son and I are.  It is everything Vivian was for so long, without the sad ending.  It is a huge priority in my daily life, to create home.  It is our work in progress, proof of life.  It is not just a building.  
"Getting over" things, has been a routine in a life full of frequent losses.  Creating one's own stability and source of comfort is a standard, for me anyway, in a world where our connections are becoming more battery-operated (I am being a hypocrite now - I'd rather this was real paper in a real book!).
Writing had been my only refuge until I had a child.  I have a journal for almost every year of my life since I was 12.  I wrote incessantly when I was pregnant, worrying about whether I would be a good enough mother.  And then when the boy came, I wrote incessantly about every detail about him, until he was about 5 years old.  He became my refuge. Then chaos of single-motherhood/only bread winner/"head of household" left me with less "disposable time" (who has that, anyway?) and that time was spent face to face with the boy, and doing homework at the kitchen table and trying to have the energy to keep the house clean.

I lost my job last year.  I knew it was coming, so I planned.  I found that I'd become pretty wise over the last 13 years of single-mothering and become quite good at my profession.  So I forged my own path, and have found myself with the time to write again, thank you.  When I started writing today, I had the idea of "House", as it is so important to me.  I was going to write about all the cool things we do in our house, our "work in progress".  But then when it came time to upload the picture, I found the Vivian shot, and this first entry became much different than I had pictured. . . 

So we'll see what happens.  I am hoping to post pictures of my homemade bread that I have had the blessing of less fettered time to make.  And some art, and some comforting thoughts for others who have felt sad or chaotic.  We'll see.