There’s No Place Like Home

I have just returned from a holiday back to Canada.  Yes, Canadians say holiday and not vacation. lol  It makes it seem ever so glamorous, doesn’t it? Logan had a wonderful time fishing and tossing bean bags and John loves an opportunity to reconnect with his family.  The weather was excellent and by all rights I should be raving about an incredible week.  And I could, but deep down you need to know that every day away from the house that built Luke Inwood is a tough day.

I’m not sure if this is just a “me” problem or if other bereaved parents share this woe.  Early on after losing Luke, friends and family were very kind and invited us to the Cape and to Canada and to Maine, all in the efforts, I know, to distract us and give us a weekend away to forget everything and just enjoy the days.  The problem is I couldn’t go.  The thought of leaving the house where in every corner there is a ghost and glimmer of Luke terrified me.  In this house I am flooded with thoughts of my boy and frankly, that is the way I need it.   I leave my bedroom in the morning and straight ahead are his room and the bed that hides his collection of football cards.  I walk down the stairs and stare out the front windows and see him running for the bus, coffee in one hand, holding up his jeans and his belt with the other.  I place my own coffee cup on the island where I made plate after plate after plate of nachos and listened to him chat on about his day.  I go outside to water the flowers and hear the laughter of all the neighborhood lads setting up their little green army men in the sand around the swing set.  Perched at the top of the stairs I will forever hear the sounds of adolescence – video games and beer pong.  I feel him with me when I pet the cats, when I play my music, when I win a question at Jeopardy.  He is everywhere.

I have a white cement heart that I leave where Luke rests easy when I go out of town.  It’s my way of telling Lukester that his momma is with him even when she isn’t.  It’s silly, I know, but this act brings me a wee bit of peace.  “My heart is with your heart, my sweet baby boy.”  And yes, as I mentioned earlier, I have been away.  A day.  Two days.  This week to Canada. Even ten days out to California.  But I can’t sleep.  And I am agitated and weepy the whole time.  I am tense with the effort it takes to push down the anxious feeling I have over being separated from one of my sons.  When we finally get in the car, regardless of how long we have been away, I finally start to breathe.  I anticipate the moment we will see that Rutland sign and can’t wait to get myself to the cemetery where, if Logan isn’t around, I practically jump out of the car and embrace that black granite headstone.  It’s not quite the same as holding the real deal, but the love is the same.

So here’s what I need you to know:  We all have special places and items that remind us of our children who have passed away and we all deal with it in different ways.  Some find refuge in traveling to take their mind off their loss.  Others have to move or empty their house of everything that might be associated with their child because it is too painful to look at all those reminders of memories.  No matter what you do, know that it is the right thing for you.  Be gentle on yourself and take your own time navigating what to do with the stuff and whether to move and how to separate from the four walls that raised your child.  As for me, turns out I am stuck in the 01543 forever.  Gladly.  Home is where your son’s heart is.  Xxx


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  • Donna Inwood
    August 5, 2018 at 9:19 pm

    This breaks my heart. I knew it was hard on you. I could feel it and see it in your eyes which no matter how hard you tried to be happy, had that sad, haunted look behind your smiles.. As a mom, I understand your struggle up to a point, but don’t try to pretend I could ever put myself into your shoes. Selfishly, I am so glad you came Patty, as hard as I knew it was for you to leave your boy. I loved having all of you so close. However, I’m also happy knowing you are back home. If there was a magic potion that would heal your heart, I would travel wherever I had to in order to give it to you. I love you. ????

    • pattyinwood
      August 12, 2018 at 2:06 pm

      Going home is always worth it. Sending Love your way. Xxx

  • AnnMarie
    February 9, 2020 at 8:06 pm

    Patty I’ve recently been reading your stories, each touch my heart. Some, unfortunately, are so relatable.. God bless you and Lukester ??

    • pattyinwood
      February 22, 2020 at 5:21 pm

      Thank you so much, AnnMarie. Xxx