A feeling of security, comfort, peace, family, solidarity, familiarity, love and belonging enveloped me the moment my mother, Ross, my brother, and I moved to our new home in Redding, California during the summer of 1973. My mother was newly engaged to Frank, who became Ross’ and my stepfather in December of 1974. At long last, I finally felt a sense of solid ground and permanent togetherness.
Although I lived in this beautiful home on
Alden Avenue just five years before graduating high school and heading to the Hawaiian Islands, I knew I could revisit the picture-perfect home I’d known. I’d spent those five years with the “Movie Stars”, my close girlfriends, in a world of non-stop activity, and indescribable unity. With our family’s homes right around the corner from each other, we knew another fun-filled event was only moments away.
Life, however, drastically changed when Ross ended his life in 1999; the unraveling of my fond teen-age memories began. Two years later, my mother died, leaving my world a state of shattered disbelief. Shortly thereafter, the home I’d grown to count on was sold. Frank remarried and moved to
. The life and memories I’d known until I was 41 came to a screeching halt. Idaho
Since beginning my life as an adult, I attempted creating the feelings I’d known on
Alden Avenue. While moving between Californian and the Hawaiian Islands, the security eluded me. I married when I was 36 and became a mother at age 37. Surely, now what I deeply longed for could be mine again. However, my husband and I divorced six years later, while Spencer, my son, and I remained on our ranch. Eight years after divorcing and 14 years since moving to our ranch, I’m still trying to create the life I deeply miss.
It wasn’t until
July 30, 2011, I felt the feelings I’d known on Alden Avenue. Donna Wishon, one of the Movie Stars, lost Wish, her father, a week prior. The Family of Friends I’d known the past 38 years came together to honor and remember Wish, a gentle soul. Donna’s family home is no longer as I’ve known; both her parents are now gone, too.
I was given the opportunity to stay over night in Katy Dunbar’s childhood home as her folks were out of town. Katy is another of the Movie Stars and Korki, her mother, was one of my mother’s close friends. I was relieved to park my suitcase away from any troubles for a day.
Walking into the
Dunbar’s home, I was instantly catapulted back to 1973 in a way I could never have imagined; I felt the missing pieces of my heart come together. I walked down the hallway and gazed at the family photos on the wall. I rolled my suitcase into Katy’s childhood bedroom while a flood of memories returned me to the days when the Movie Stars played there. Once again, I was in a picture-perfect home, complete with all for which my heart longed.
The next morning, however, I awoke overcome with an aching sadness. I realized the love, security, safety, family, aesthetic beauty, familiarity, closeness and happiness I felt in the
Dunbar’s home was only for a day. In a few short hours, I would leave behind all I desired for Spencer and me.
Crawling out of the comfortable twin bed, I walked outside and sat in a chair to watch the automatic sprinklers prepare the lush yard for another hot
day. The birds jumped from one potted plant to another with seemingly not a care in the world. Behind the greenery of the yard, I saw the area, which once housed 4-H farm animals to pet. Across the freshly-mowed lawn, the sun rays streamed through the trees the Movie Stars and I raced through another lifetime ago. Redding
In my adult years, I’ve not felt what I had as a protected, teen-age girl; perhaps this is not to be as an adult? As a mother, I’ve not created a financially stable, nuclear setting for Spencer and myself. With foreclosure of our ranch on the horizon, a destroyed history of stellar credit and a mountain of bills too high to climb, I continue seeking the right choices. Where do we go from here? I look into Spencer’s eyes and pray he doesn’t sense my agony of defeat. Instead, I focus on what I have done for us.
Is there a magic formula to soothe the longings in my heart? Is it in a book I may find at Barnes & Noble? Is it in a story I may write and stumble upon as I re-read my words? If given an opportunity to sit down with my late mother for a cup of tea, could she guide me to my answers?
When the nine
Dunbar siblings walk into the childhood home they’ve known nearly 40 years for family gatherings, they understand what I’ve described. Their mother and father greet them with a warm welcome; the grandchildren race throughout, while making a bee-line to the Silver Egg, for a piece of candy.
I’m grateful for the life once lived – if only for a day. Knowing now what’s missing in my existence, I’ll continue searching for this hidden treasure. I hope to locate the map, guiding me to my home sweet home.