Going Home, Part 1
Patti Conklin • July 24, 2018
Memories. Loss. Laughter. And Love
I’d like to share with you some of my feelings and would truly love to hear yours. Through each other, I believe we can all find our way home, whether we know where it is or not. While this may seem sad as I start, it’s pivotal in my life right now, creating the beginning of 4 years of questions. So, please, breathe with me and read my words, words I’m struggling to write. You know me worldwide as a professional woman, and I’m very proud of the work I’ve done. I’ve had the privilege of helping so many people around the world, but we all have challenges, and these are mine.
These are some of my personal challenges that I’ve sat with, thought about, and lived with. Stick with me as I work my way through sharing this with you, for as we share, we understand, as we understand, we grow, as we grow, we blossom. And maybe one day, my blossoms and your blossoms come together as one massive beautiful flower.
Dad
The call came early morning. Dad had passed, 4 years after my mother. My brother’s voice was calm, down to business. We all knew it was coming, we just didn’t know when.
I insisted we have a memorial service for him the following week. My brother laughed and said, “In January, in Brooktondale? Are you out of your mind?”
I chuckled. “Out of my mind? Always debatable,” I laughed with him.
“We’ll bury him in the spring with Mom but have a service now,” David pushed.
I insisted. “Memorials should be done at the time of death, not 6 months later.”
David told me to do whatever it was I wanted and to let him know. After contacting friends of my parents to help put together a memorial service for him. I sat down to make my flight and rent a car, realizing I’d need to upgrade to a 4-wheel drive because, of course, a snow storm was coming, and indeed it did.
A few hours later, another call came in from my dear friend, informing me that her husband was being checked into the ICU. I told her I’d be there in a few hours to be with them.
David
As I sat with my dearest friend David, listening to the doctors, watching the nurses come in and out of the room we finally had a quiet moment. He looked into my eyes and said: “What’s up?”
“My dad died this morning. I need to go home to for a memorial service for him..” with tears in his eyes he vehemently tore off his breathing mask and yelled, “ THAT place is NOT your home! THIS IS YOUR HOME.” He said it with the same strength that he has for 20 years everytime I said “home”….to him my home was in Georgia with all my friends
Words that, to this day, are still burned into my brain.
I didn’t argue, he was stressed that I was flying out, but his wife, his sons, they’d all be there for him during the few days that I was out of town. I knew his time was not close, although it was closer than what I ever dreaded.
During that long winter of 2014, in just 4 short months, I lost 12 people that I considered to be dear to me, from all over. Some in NY who I grew up with, many in Georgia, some in Michigan, some across the Pond in Europe. It seemed like the tide of death was hitting and all I could do was hold on, hold on to those who I loved and cherish the memories of those who had passed.
The trip back home
The trip to our childhood home is more often than not, a fun, exciting time. Looking at life as it was, the places we played, gathering with our childhood friends. All of this can be excitingly fun or depressing, or a mixture of both.
In June, I went home, to the place of my birth, and while I had gone home when my Dad died, I only stayed for a few days. I have never stayed for so long. I got to stay on an AIRBNB Sailboat (Y’all know I’m a water fanatic correct? Lol) for 9 days. A nice 1932 monohull sailboat – with no A/C – and the marina 2 blocks down the road. Of course, I picked a week of 95-100 degrees of sweaty, stifling heat – with no A/C. Did I mention the sailboat didn’t have air conditioning?
I met with childhood friends, took the boat out on a few sunset cruises on Cayuga Lake, which was beautiful and fun. It’s always wonderful to see friends I grew up with, laughing at some of our adventures, stunned at how we viewed them differently. I met with my niece and had some awesome times with her as always. I have amazing nieces and nephews from both of my brothers… ( well, of course, I’m biased, however, they truly are!)
My brother and I walked the old family farm. We looked at the house we were raised in, the old barn, remembering Bessie the cow, the night the weasels got in the hen house, my pony, Frisky. Laughing at some of our antics in maneuvering quicksand. The farm now belongs to Cornell University as a Bird Reserve.
As my brother and I walked the high grasses of our old 45-acre homestead we talked about how life evolved for both of us, it reminded me of our childhood, the good, the bad, the ugly.
David and I visited the family cemetery and then went down the road to the next cemetery. As my brother and I walked the cemetery, listening to Six Mile Creek gurgle and babble, we realized there were a few plots there that looked as though they are still available. They overlook the creek, so restful and peaceful. I made up my mind there and then to get one of those plots for my final resting place when Father brings me Home.
We quietly listened to the creek, the same creek I ice skated on, fished in, swam in, those were very happy times, but is it really home? Just because we are born in one geographical area, is THAT place HOME? Is this place truly home?
Have you left home? Where is HOME for you? Have you gone back? Do you have memories of your childhood home? How did the events that you grew up with make you the amazing person you are today? What are your happy memories? What are the emotions you are ready to let go of? What adventures do you look forward to in your life?
Join me next week as I continue my tale of going home!
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