There she was, thirteen years later, standing in the empty room of the small apartment she'd just rented. She'd left the farm behind, along with the beautiful home they'd bought in the beginning - left him the furniture, food in the fridge, and clean towels on the rack - taking only a small bed, her clothing and personal belongings, and a few mementos of the past. It was just easier that way, her choice. Here she was, now in her fifties, starting over again with nothing, just like she'd done once before.
The words of a familiar song from her youth kept replaying in her brain... "freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose"... and there was nothing left, nothing of the love and laughter she knew in the beginning. Now it was all about escaping the fear and craziness that life had become, escaping while she still could, before things went too far.
Part of her longed to go home, back to the familiar no matter how bad it was, back to the only home that had ever truly belonged to her; back to a place where she could be with her beloved cats - none were allowed here, not anyplace in town. Leaving them with her daughter broke her heart; it was far harder than leaving him. She would never forget the look in Smokey's eyes as she hugged him goodbye. She knew he was in good loving hands and would be well cared for, but he knew she was leaving him, he knew.
Displaced, alone, abandoned by love and seemingly by life itself, she sat forlorn in the corner of the yet empty room, numb with sadness and exhaustion. She knew that being free wasn't going to be fun, no picnic as one might expect, but still so much better than being where you weren't valued. Sometimes having nothing is better than having something that has gone bad.
A feeling deep inside told her that life wouldn't be like this for long, a year or so at most and she'd be moving on... she had no idea how, or where, or what it would entail, just that God was faithful and life would go on. Little did she know at that moment of complete desolation, that the best and happiest years of her life were just up ahead.
Home is not about where you are or what you have in the way of material possessions, it's about what you have in your heart.
Linking up with Brenda at Pondering With A Purpose
where this week's prompt is "devastation or displacement"