Head Like a Hole

Our house is all sewn up.  Like my mother once did, it had about twelve surgeries on its head alone, in the span of a quarter year.  I have seen my first home—my mother’s body—and my last home, taken away piece by piece.  This is why I do not seem myself.  I am not myself!  Steve and I, we are two kids playing a neighborhood game and the dependably parked safety car has driven away.  We ran like hell through bushes and streets, dodging tags and all manner of trouble, just to make it to home base and yell, “Safe!”  Only someone’s mom took it to the supermarket.

Someone else’s mom.

Ours are gone.

Now we are running aimlessly, flailing, yelling out to the others, “What’s the new safety?  Where is home now?  Don’t tag us!”

Mother: birth, life, protection, guidance.

House: grounding, security, symbol for your psyche.

Without these we hold onto each other, hoping another storm doesn’t blow us away (our house is scheduled to be up on pilings during the height of hurricane season).   We cannot seek comfort in mom, and we cannot go home.  We try to anchor ourselves and each other in midair.

Our house is healing.  Finally, the rain cannot penetrate.  One of the wettest seasons on record began right when the roof came off.  This week, with the house all sewn up they were slated to shingle–on the hottest week of the year!  Et tu, Mother Nature?  More days go by.  Weeks.  Months.  The SBA won’t even finish their loan review for another month and a half.  The joke about $30,000 from FEMA for raising the house continues to be told all over Long Beach.  NY State’s Sandy Help is still pending.  All of it pends and depends upon other pendings.  But…our house slowly heals.

No holes in its head=a less flooded mind for me, despite all the uncertainty.  Symbolically, houses represent the psyche: the basement the subconscious, the upper floors the higher or spiritual self.  No wonder I have had difficulty attaining any level of enlightenment of late.  Now that the loft is sealed and my symbolic crown is not drowned, maybe I can get some sun in my mind.

At the very least, I can once again relax to the sound of a summer night’s rain.  And that is worth celebrating.

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Also worth celebrating….

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2 responses to “Head Like a Hole

  1. Jen you sound so crestfallen. I am so sad for you. Life certainly can be a bitch and believe me doesn’t get much easier but you are blessed with your husband and family try to take some comfort in that. Just know there are so many people that care about you as I do. If you need to just talk I am here.

    • Bea, thank you so much. Some days are tough, probably because I am a bit of a control freak, and also because I spend too much time thinking about the meaning of everything. And when I write, I tend to explore how I feel pretty deeply–which probably makes me sound like I feel worse than I do! That said–again, some days are hard, especially when there seems to be no help in sight and everything is going soooo slowly. I have my ups and downs but mostly I am grateful for the loves and friends in my life. Like you.

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