Home

Last night, Christmas Eve, someone said to me, "it must be so good to come home..." and I just stared at her blankly. Hours later, in the wee small hours, I realized for me...

Home.

Home was with him. Home was where he was. Where we were together. That was home these last years. Home. 

Just writing that brings massive amounts of tears. Face streaked wet with salt water. 

Home has been, when together with him, HOME HAS BEEN US, for years now. He was my family. My home. 

I have more family, friends who are family-like, other dwellings that are familiar, home-like, but not the same way we were partnered...

We were home to each other.

I'm grateful home got to hold his body's hand as he transitioned. 

I'm sure this will shift and evolve as time does and I do, but it's such an unsettling feeling. No home. Literally and figuratively.