1614 Clay Drive
my one and only home.
i wake up in the morning sometimes, disoriented, thinking i'm in my old room, with my old furniture and closet doors.
i'm on a trip, and i think of home and picture my old room, not either of the two places in which we've lived since leaving.
at christmas, i see our tree and the trains and the fireplace in our old house. i hear the trains moving around the tracks, hear the fire crackling, see the lights blinking on the tree. when it was really quiet, i could hear the little bulbs going on and off. i would turn all the room lights off, so the fireplace, the lights on the tree, and the little ceramic light-up houses under the tree were the only illumination. i see the gallery and living room filled with guests, people we've known for years and loved and who love us. I hear the happy chatter of people having fun, with soft christmas music in the background.
the family room and kitchen are filled with food and coats and purses and sometimes with gifts. my mom and i and sometimes the other women are moving around the kitchen, preparing the next course or appetizer or coffee for dessert. there's lots of laughter.
i have little memory of mccarty drive, much to my sadness. that was a painful period for me, and sad for my mom to leave. the whole thing makes me very sad. we never wanted to leave clay drive in the first place, and would still be there if we could. my dad had heart failure at mccarty ranch. i was desperately ill, and on clozaril, and had given up altogether, but did finally respond to effexor and begin my excruciatingly slow climb out of the dungeon at mccarty.
this is my story and i have to tell it.
i never wanted to move to mccarty ranch, but my mom did. she never wanted to leave it, but we did anyway. that makes me sad because i want her to be happy.
none of us really loves the place where we are now, but it is our home and we do our best. it was muffy's last house. he'd been with us since clay drive.
i wake up in the morning sometimes, disoriented, thinking i'm in my old room, with my old furniture and closet doors.
i'm on a trip, and i think of home and picture my old room, not either of the two places in which we've lived since leaving.
at christmas, i see our tree and the trains and the fireplace in our old house. i hear the trains moving around the tracks, hear the fire crackling, see the lights blinking on the tree. when it was really quiet, i could hear the little bulbs going on and off. i would turn all the room lights off, so the fireplace, the lights on the tree, and the little ceramic light-up houses under the tree were the only illumination. i see the gallery and living room filled with guests, people we've known for years and loved and who love us. I hear the happy chatter of people having fun, with soft christmas music in the background.
the family room and kitchen are filled with food and coats and purses and sometimes with gifts. my mom and i and sometimes the other women are moving around the kitchen, preparing the next course or appetizer or coffee for dessert. there's lots of laughter.
i have little memory of mccarty drive, much to my sadness. that was a painful period for me, and sad for my mom to leave. the whole thing makes me very sad. we never wanted to leave clay drive in the first place, and would still be there if we could. my dad had heart failure at mccarty ranch. i was desperately ill, and on clozaril, and had given up altogether, but did finally respond to effexor and begin my excruciatingly slow climb out of the dungeon at mccarty.
this is my story and i have to tell it.
i never wanted to move to mccarty ranch, but my mom did. she never wanted to leave it, but we did anyway. that makes me sad because i want her to be happy.
none of us really loves the place where we are now, but it is our home and we do our best. it was muffy's last house. he'd been with us since clay drive.
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