An Echo

Today I ran around Atlanta....doctors appointments, IKEA, Loehman's, Neiman's and the 2-story Target. On the way to my friend’s house I decided to swing by our house on Ivy Gate Circle. It's okay.... don’t freak out…. I am not stalking them this time….the renters have vacated and we are anxiously awaiting new paying customers.

Oh how I have missed Hot lanta. I had an extra house key with me so I decide I would pop my head in. I had to tailgate a neighbor just to get through the gated community that no longer accepts my code.

In our haste to leave Atlanta I forgot to give the renters our garage door opener.... it was still clipped to my visor. So I used the clicker along with the extra key to sneak a peak.

With butterflies in my stomach I drive into the garage. Proceed to get out and take it all in. I stare and allow the nostalgia of my garage to flood my mind. I open the down stairs door. And wham... my house. It's my house. I look up the stairwell. Take in the familiar sight. Smell the familiar smells. Then I realize I am waiting to hear the pitter patter of little feet. (or paws)Yet a;; I hear is the echo of stillness. There is no Oliver here. No little puddy cat to round the corner and head straight for me.

Climbing the steps a feeling of loneliness fills my soul. I am all alone. All through our married life I spent 3 - 4 days home alone. With Harry flying I experienced the solitude of having a pilot for a husband.

I climb the remaining steps and arrive in the living room area.

To find.... nothing. No sofa. No books. No knickknacks from around the world. Nothing. Just the echo of my footsteps on the wood floor. Both Harry and I had left for Greece when the movers came to collect our remaining household goods. (Thank you Richard for doing our dirty work.... knowing what I know now and feeling what I feel now I am not sure if I could have handled the transition... or random people touching my things.) So this is the first time I have seen our empty house since we moved. If you remember the Round and Round post... I have been back, but just to go round and round the outside. And it was a shocker...



Into the kitchen nook. Nothing. Just the echo of my thoughts.



Round to the kitchen.... again nothing. Just the now spacious clean kitchen. And the memory of how things used to be. Where Harry’s coffee pot once stood. Where the only plant I have ever tried to tend… the Bamboo plant… sat by the window…contemplating when I would actually kill it. Where Oliver’s bowl used to sit. The echo of his automatic watering bowl.




"Wow Harry... look you always said I come in and pile my junk on the island bar.... and I did it again. Maybe, it's habit."



With the echo of my footsteps, I climb up the stairs again and into our bedroom. I kind of miss these stairs. They were my daily workout. No need for a stair climber when you have 4 flights on steps to climb.







To the bedroom. No bed. No carpets. No chair. Nothing. I was expecting to see and to feel what was.... our warm cozy inviting bedroom, but all that was left was shiny floors. I wonder what the last renters used to clean these floors? I never had them this shiny. Or maybe I just covered them up with rugs so I did not have to sweep every other day.

Then I opened the door to my long lost friend …….my closet




And hear the resounding echo of our shutters. Something about this closet… when you open and close the door the wooden shutters rattle.

But H-E-L-L-O space. Homes in Greece...or Europe for that matter... do not have closets. Not even a small coat closet. You store your clothes in a wardrobe. Correction: you store your clothes, all 4 seasons worth of clothes into a teeny tiny space....and not just your clothes, but those of your spouse as well. Sorry to say Harry has had to downsize on his wardrobe little bit.

“Look Harry.... and you said I could never pick up all my clothes off the floor."


Next.... my favorite place in the whole word. My cove. My private sancuary.
My bathroom.





It brings tears to my eyes. My bathroom. An actual tub I can fit in. My own sink. Harry's own shower. Harry's own sink. My dressings table. A mirror that I can actually see my entire reflection in. But my bath. My bath. Oh, my bathtub. Six jets which can be set at varying speeds....depending on what mood I am in.

I turn on the water to hear the wafting echo of cascading water. Oh, such an inviting sound.
And not to forget….HOT water …. And hot water on demand. Not this…. turn on the hot water heater and wait 45 minutes. Then you only have a small amount and have to wait another 45 minutes for the tank to heat up again.



I was awe struck with my old familiar surroundings. I wanted to stay. I was ready to call it quits….tell the Navy to take a hike...just to come back to my little piece of paradise.

If I had had a towel and a good book... I would have gotten in for real. And a good book too.


So I settled for the view I saw everyday for 7 years. A view I saw multiple times a day....remember I am one of those people who have at least 3 baths a day.







So as I pried myself from my most sacred place....I realize how empty our place looks. As I wandered into the other rooms I see none of our markings. Just the occasional spilled diet soda and coffee here and there. But nothing else.

The house was bare. Our furniture... gone. Not a single shred of what life was like pre-Navy / pre-fulltime ministry. Not even a photograph on the wall that showed we had once walked these halls. Hung our hat on the pegs. Or ran a many a hot water baths.

For all intent purposes....I had my house back. But not all the things that had made it my home. No Harry, Kayne, Oliver, or Miss Peabody. Just an empty shell of what life used to be like. I grieved a little while longer. Looked around. Took in the familiar sights. Smelled the familiar smells. Heard the usual squeaks and cracks of the house. Knew just where all the light switches were.

So I felt my way down the empty stairwell into the empty garage. walked towards the truck and stopped by the mailbox by habit. All I heard was the echo of an empty mailbox lid slamming shut.

So tonight... I feel a sad. Grieving the comforts lost and still hesitant for what tomorrow will bring. Change and constant motion seems so hard for me. Most of the time I would rather stay in my comfort zone and listen to the familiar echoes of our former life.

However, I now realize if I chose to stay in the comfort zone….I would miss out on what God has in store for me ….for us. And that would be a haunting echo to resound within me.

I want to be able to hear want God has to say to me with perfect hearing. With an open heart and acute sense of hearing.

Blessings to those with excellent hearing,

Kristie