Haven Hill
September 10, 2005Note: This was written last week.
Saved as draft until posting tonight.
I awake to darkness. The far away glow from a street
light soothes. While a reddish glow greets my glance to
my bedside table. Beside an unread book rests the
source. The clock dares to say yet again, 3:45 am.
This waking continues throughout the night.
At times I wander, walk the dogs and have a smoke.
Other nights I am drawn to the computer just because.
More often than not I continue to lie there.
Perhaps reach for Jan for warmth as I try not to
wake her. Envious of her ability to sleep.
My mind continues to speak, my body rebels.
Sleep occasionally, gratefully captures me.
Trials of reality demand attention at odd hours for
me now. The need for sleep second to the urge to think.
The feeling that I must do something, more prevalent than
any other. More so than grief, or fear.
More so than loss or shame. My own or theirs.
I wonder when this time of worry and suffering will ease.
For us personally and for those so much more in need.
The Katrina survivors and my own life drama keep me awake.
A dance no one enjoys; least of all me.
They say we didn’t pay. They attempt to take our home.
We have proof of course, the bank agrees.
My home still stands, and yet it is threatened.
Those payments made perhaps attributed to interest,
instead of a regretful balance in arrears.
I do not know. We investigate. Time will tell if my
letters and pleas to look at the facts touch them as
truth. I am frightened. Still, these thoughts of saving my
own home bring guilt. I do have this home intact.
So much more than others now have I know, yet this
matters to us too.
I struggled at times, these 15 years, to keep my home.
Frightening and profound struggles. Twice I began to pack.
It taught me many lessons. Home improvement and more.
My love for this space growing steadily as the years past.
I planted that tree that now stands 30 feet in height.
The gardens are my own doing. Basement bedrooms built
with my own two hands and heart.
We christened it all our Haven Hill.
To keep this home for all my children’s upbringing
was my goal. I’m almost there. Everything in me screams.
They have no idea what my home means to me.
Sleep evades as silent dreams refuse to allow
restful sleep. As I lay there I know, right now I
am far from alone with this plight.
My fear does not compare, yet still…I weep.
The worst guilt is to accept an unearned guilt.
- Ayn Rand
You have absolutely nothing to feel guilty about.
The need to protect your home and your family is very basic to all of us.
I hope this all works out for you.
Love You, Annie.
Annie if there is anything at all that I can do to help, please let me know. Don’t give up without a fight! Paperwork and “computer glitches” are often just let go because no one fought for the truth! Love ya! BTW, when you get to work and hear that I died, I didn’t. I got a frantic message from Triage Nurse that word spread about my death. The person with the same name “died quietly at home”. That should have been a clue. I’ve never done anything quietly in my life and certainly wouldn’t do so at death! I caused a stir in the ER without lifting a finger. Go figger.
For some reason when I get to your blog, I get interuppted often. I read and re-read. But, if is has to happen, I am glad it happens on yours. Your blog is always written with such warmth and thought.
I see nothing for you to feel guilty about. From what I have read since coming to your blog, you are doing an amazing job of staying in your beloved home. You and Jan have done an admirable job raising your kids in that home and you have learned to do so much to make it a home.
I understand the fear all to well. You have done all you can do to prove you have paid and you should not have to be in that position. I am sorry for that. I know it’s hard to live that way. But, keep the faith Annie, the truth is on your side as are so many of your friends.
my husband can sleep through anything, while i;m wide awake staring at the ceiling at 4am. the computer can be an insomniac’s best friend. i can’t take any sleeping meds because i have such an addictive personality, had a terrible time with imovane. i hope nothing happens to your home, you talk about it with such love
I’ve been seeing 4:00 on my clock lately, then I drift back off, the cats or dog realize I’m half awake, and then they start looking for attention. Fran sleeps through all of it. If I roll into her, she wakes up complaining that I’m like a furnace, even though I’m shivering cold.
If you have proof that you’ve paid, and the bank agrees, there shouldn’t even be a question about taking your home. Hoping it all works out!!!
Wow Annie, this is easier said than done but you really don’t have anything to feel guilty about! Your home is important to you and you worry. I’m the one who can sleep through anything here, Tim lays awake for hours and hours! I’m here. I know that doesn’t change anything on your end…sometimes just knowing others are thinking of you makes a small difference.
I typed a whole long response that seems to have disappeared in the wind. Ugh.
For some, the fight has just begun. Yours continues. Don’t give up…make them hear you, make them see you’re right. There’s no guilt in protecting your family.
Love you, Annie.
i thought i commented yesterday but it’s not here, so maybe i got confused by the letter jumble puzzle.
what i said was that i hope that everything works out for you and that if you need help, please ask.
much love.
We start with self and then family/friends and then the rest.
Hope “they” listen.
We are.
STB
Hang in there Annie, I hope it works out.
the truth will come out in the paperwork.
your house is your haven, for sure.
I too feel like this.
your love and hard work show and remind at every glance.
hugs,
Karen