Tag: home

Home…The First Few Days

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

first few days“Home.” In the house. Things to do. First things first. Unpack. Enter the closet. UGH! Our closet. A place we shared. Our things. Together. Neatly hung. Methodically placed. Color coordinated. Shoes boxed. Belts hung. Orderly. Just like Gregger. His side. My side. Only now it was all mine. A few stray shirts hung in a corner, along with a sparse mixture of belts and ties. I wanted it the old way. Elegant suits matched with sophisticated shirts, ties, and pocket squares. Just like Gregger. But now my clothes filled the space reminding me again of his absence.

first few days 1I peeked into his dresser. Everything neatly folded. Piles. Color coded. Socks. Underwear. T-shirts. I didn’t dare get too close. It might smell like him. I wasn’t ready. The bottom drawer. A few stray shirts. And buried beneath, cards, letters, and more cards. All from me. I had no idea. I covered them. It wasn’t time. Not yet. I will read them. And remember. But not now. Too much to do. Too many emotions.

first few days 2I ran into Starbucks to caffeinate. Our Starbucks. I thought I was over that “hump,” but it came rushing back in a flood of memories. Sitting outside. Chatting about nothing. Our Sunday-Funday. I missed it. I missed him.

Driving downtown yesterday I found myself driving directly toward the Suns arena. Without even realizing it, my eyes welled up. The tears trickled down my cheeks as I remembered.  So many games. Date nights. And, of course, the memorial. His last “hoorah.”  first few days 3

So being here is tough. He’s everywhere. Not that I don’t want to see him. I love seeing him. But it will take some getting used to all over again. It’s okay. I’m okay. I just have to take it one day at a time. Live. Learn. Love. And always be grateful. Blessings.

To be continued…

first few days 4

Welcome “Home”

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

roadtripSo after a long, but incredibly enjoyable road trip with my “bestie,” we made it back to Arizona. I had butterflies, tummy-turning moments cruising down the 101. Driving in bumper-to-bumper, nail-biting traffic didn’t help. But there were “welcome home signs.” Signs that kept reminding me that everything would be okay. It was incredible. Sometimes I think I’m nuts. Or if I talk about it, others will think I’m nuts. At this point, I don’t care. I’m nuts either way. But these signs. OMG! I know they were there for me. And I know I was meant to be aware. Open.

Rainbow. First it was faint. In the distance. Marcia spotted it. I squinted. Let it be there. PLEASE. A rainbow. I wanted it so badly. It was Gregger’s gateway. His way of welcoming me back. I just knew it. So I kept squinting. The colors became deeper. A little broader. A little longer. And then we spotted a second one. Faint in the distance, but there. Was this for real? I was like a kid in a candy store. Snapping pictures. Sending them to my kids. He’s here! He’s here! Suddenly the skies opened and the rainbow appeared from one end to the next. Full on. Every color. Full arch to the pot of gold. It was nature’s miracle awakening in front of me. And I was the glorious witness. My spirits lifted. And I knew from that moment on, everything would be okay. IMG_1549

Traffic was gridlocked. We crawled at a snail’s pace. Anxiety building. The music was nearly muted. But I heard it. The sign. Again. Gregger’s “Happy” song. “Because I’m happy clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth!” OH YEAH! Gregger dancing me home! Keeping my spirits up. He knew how to get me. And he did. We were rocking. Singing. Being silly.  But, in that moment, nothing else mattered. He was bringing me back and I’d be okay.

roadtrip 3We finally made it home. Well, we made it to the house. I wasn’t sure it was “home” anymore. Four walls, lots of memories, but missing a big piece inside. Weird. Big. Empty. Silent. And dark. Very, very dark. I entered. One foot at a time. I had four extra arms to guide me. To hold me. To cheer me on. And I will forever be grateful for their support. In the blink of an eye we were exploring, sharing, moving. From room to room. Picture to picture. Memory to memory. Maybe not the same home it was before. But the love was there. Happiness. Peace. It will always hold a huge piece of my heart.

Today was a step. Tomorrow will be something new. I’ve got a long road ahead. But I’ll take this new chapter one day at a time. Just like the others. And I’ll get through this too. Live. Learn. Love. And always be grateful. Blessings.

To be continued…

coming home

returning home

On Being Strong…Returning Home

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

strength and courageSo I was home. Not the way I thought it would be. Ever. It would never be home again. Not without Gregger. It would be a house. But never a home. Too much was missing. But again, I had to be strong. Too much ahead of me. Too much to do. People to see. Emotions. Tears. Plans. Could I do it? I had no choice. So I moved. Robotically. One foot in front of the other. I had to go into our bedroom. Our closet. See his clothes. Every shirt, tie, jacket that reminded me of him. A day. A night. A memory. His toothbrush. Standing erect in its holder. He would never use it again. Everything I touched reminded me of his absence. And the fact that he was never coming back.

strength and gratitudePeople came. To pay respects. Platters of food. Flowers. So nice. So grateful. And my role? To tell the story. Again. And again. And again. How did it happen? What did you do? How are you feeling? The questions were overwhelming. But I had to answer. I had to smile. I had to keep standing. And so I did. Strength. Somehow. It was there. You never know where it comes from. But somehow it shows up. Just when you need it most. 

Time to plan. A memorial. Really? Was that word even in my vocabulary? That’s for sick people. Old people. Not for Gregger. Not for us. But this was real. This was happening. And I had to be present. I had to make this beautiful. For him. He deserved it. More than anyone I’d ever known. The support of community, family and friends was overwhelming. I couldn’t have done it without them. I was blessed. Forever grateful. But in the between time people scattered. Went back to their lives. And I was alone.

gratitude and strength 1One night I collapsed. To the ground. On my knees. Sobbing. Endless tears. I went outside. I wailed to the stars. The moon. “Are you out there? Can you hear me?” I uttered those words. I needed to feel him. I never felt as alone as I did at that moment. My sister-in-law called.  I wanted to let it ring. Don’t let her hear my agony. My breakdown. But I answered. Choking tears. And she saved me. She talked me through. Told me it was okay. Break down. Cry. Let it out. So I did. And as we talked, I felt the strength return. Slowly.  I knew at that moment that I would be okay. I just had to learn to ride the waves. 

To be continued…

home again

Home Again

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

“Home is where you go to find solace from the ever-changing chaos, to find love within the confines of a heartless world, and to be reminded that no matter how far you wander, there will always be something waiting when you return.”

home 1Love, support, friendship. I was blessed this past weekend. I was blessed to be surrounded by family and friends. I wasn’t sure about my decision. I was feeling guilty. I thought I should be with my kids. But it all turned out for the best. Everyone ended up right where they were supposed to be. Sometimes life makes our choices for us. And they turn out okay. I want to believe that’s what happened. Because we did okay. It was tough. Sad. But being surrounded by people who love you is a gift.

I went “home” again. Back to my beginnings. The place that defined me. But also a place that made me want to be something else. Something different. Something better. I wanted to come back a “better” me. And I believe I did that. A “better me” who was grateful for roots. Foundation. A “better me” who recognized all the blessings of “home.” I’ve come home many times before. I’d see people. Share memories. And leave. But this time people were there. Not just for social engagement. But for me. They embraced me at a time I needed it most. I felt the love. The warmth. The friendship. The camaraderie of fifty plus years. Indescribable. The bond, never ending.

homeMy parents. My sister. Life-long family friends. All gathered to share Gregger’s memory. To honor him on Sunday. Some knew him. Some did not. It made no difference. That’s what being home is all about. It felt good to be home. To sleep in my old room. To drive by my old school. Relive memories. See “old” friends. There is something to be said about coming home again. As the old saying goes, “There’s no place like home.”

And then I flew to my “new” home. Lucy and me. Not back to the home where Gregger and I lived for 38 years. Not back to the home where I raised my three kids. Not back to the home where all our memories were made. My home. New beginnings. And I knew I was home Tuesday morning. I walked into OTF for my morning workout. So excited to get the blood flowing. See friends. And welcoming me back, loud and clear, was Gregger. “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” Playing. I melted. But I knew. I was right where I was supposed to be. Home.

home 2

For those who don’t know the significance of “the rainbow,” check out “The Rainbow” @atruelovefairytale.com from May 8th, 2015. 

The House that is a Home

The House that is a Home

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

imageApril is the 21st anniversary in our home…21 years! We moved around a lot in the first 18 years of our marriage, beginning in the typical apartment to starter home and moving on up from there. All in all we moved 8 times with a few temporary houses in between. We always built rather than buying something a little older and remodeling…Gregger always wanted to attempt that, but he never had time. Building from the ground up was difficult enough with his schedule, but somehow we made it work.

Our first big investment was in 1978 when we purchased a Suggs semi-custom in McCormick Ranch. It had the best of the 80’s…drab olive, burnt orange and horrific plaids! It was a huge stretch for our budget but we convinced our young 24-year old selves that it was going to be the best investment we ever made. We carefully selected carpet, cabinets, and all the trimmings making it our perfect first house and the perfect place to start our family. But…after 2 years, we were ready to move on, and ready to “add on.” This seemed to be our pattern for the next ten years. I think it was the years of “building fever.” It seemed that just as soon as we got settled somewhere we would sell and start from the ground up again. Along with the building “fever” came “baby fever” – our family had suddenly grown from two to five.

Once the kids started school we settled down a bit. They had neighborhood friends and, back in those days, they could play outside, ride their bikes, and pretty much come and go without much worry. The boys were getting extremely involved in sports, but starting to focus intensely on tennis. We were spending our weekends traveling from one tournament to the next and weekdays were consumed with lessons and drills. We thought it would be so great to have our own court where they could practice and play ALL the time, so the hunt was on! We broke ground sometime in the summer of 1993 and the house was finished just in time to debut for Ryan’s Bar Mitzvah in April 1994.

A House is Made of Bricks and Beams…A Home is Made of Hopes and Dreams

The memories behind these walls are priceless…so many changes over so little time. The kids have grown from youngsters and teens to adults. Gregger and I went from full-time parenting to empty nesters. Adam and Ashley were married. We became grandparents to two beautiful children. The parties…if walls could talk! We had so many wonderful parties for us, the kids, and friends. I walk from room to room, I look out the window, I hear the voices, I see the faces. It is heart wrenching to let it go. But it is time. It is just too much for me without the one person who made this a home. This was OUR HOME. All of the other places became houses once we moved here. Gregger and I talked about moving for a very long time. We were going to move closer to store to make his life easier, but we never did. We were going to remodel, update, do this or that. We never did. This was still OUR HOME. It was a place filled with so much love, so many memories, something no one will ever take away from me. But at some point I must walk away and start over somewhere else. It just is not the same without Gregger. It is quiet. It is empty. I miss the noise. I miss the laughter. I miss there being more than just me. But it is still, and always will be, my HOME.

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