untethered

Home used to be you

that smell of incense and curry

mingling on your suits and shirts

slamming me when I walked through our front door

Home used to be us

in the small apartments we occupied

in those underdeveloped countries

and overdeveloped cities

scattered apart in the big houses

always finding each other in the bedroom

Home used to be in the car

long drives from the Big Apple

to the crossroads of America

switchbacks climbing up and down

the foothills of the Himalayas

void of distracting devices, we could talk

Every home had its own charm

so hot we would cool off in front of the fridge

so cold we would sleep in sweatshirts and fleece-lined hats

front row seats to the colorful kaleidoscope of the Empire State Building

full service with housekeepers, guards, and gardeners

Every home had its own set of friends

every home had its own culinary specialties

cinnamon rolls, risotto, pesto pasta

dal bhat, rajma, mint lemonade

Home was always you at the end of the telephone line

Hey there

Shhhh, the girls are sleeping

I miss you

Bring me something

I’m boarding the plane

So when that last drive to the pyramids

ended with you and me in the back of an ambulance

and the girls in the front

I was not prepared for how to be at home

without you

Untethered

that is the only word I could find

you were no longer on the other end of the phone line

no longer in the other room of the house

no longer driving or cooking or talking or thinking

So I packed up that house and moved it all away

I sat untethered for a while

some might say it was too long

I was waiting for you to come back

miracles happen don’t they

Two years and six months later

I signed the papers

we moved everything out

and everything in

A year later and pictures still sit on the floor

waiting for you to tell me where to hang them

weeds grow in the back and dishes pile up in the kitchen

I go to bed exhausted

This house is not brimming with good food or company

the iPad is a weak stand-in for you

sometimes I take walks around the cul de sac cursing you

for leaving me to do this alone

I go to the bedroom

hoping you might visit me while I sleep

to remind me that we are still tethered

that I can still make this home

that you occupy space in a different way

in the end

it is always changing

this place we call home