There are some things in your life that remind you of home. For some, it is the scent of baking bread, for others it is the sound of dogs barking, and for others it is the smell of salt on the wind blowing in from the ocean. For me, the first time I really ever had something that reminded me of home was a voice. The strange part was the voice belonged to someone I had never met.
It was on July 9th, 1999. I was calling a woman I had never met, to ask her to lunch—a blind date, setup by someone I’ve never met. I didn’t have much in the way of expectations for this blind date, as I had been told that I was going to be going out the “not-pretty” sister. I can’t say that looks are the most important thing in a person, given my own, and those of some of my best friends…but in blind date terminology, “not-pretty” is generally a kind way of putting things.
I remember this phone call as if it just happened. I dialed, and a woman answered the phone, “Hello?” I replied, “Is Gee there?” and she responded, “Yes, this is Gee.” When she said that, I heard a voice that sounded like home to me….a voice I had waited all of my life to hear. We spoke for almost an hour. Finally, I asked her to lunch the next day, July 10th. I had delayed asking her to lunch for as long as I could, just to hear more of her voice.
A few minutes later, I called my friend Brad, and told him that I had just spoken to the woman I was going to marry. When he asked me how I could possibly know that, I told him that I had just heard the voice I have waited all of my life to hear—a voice that sounds like home.
Next month will be the month I finally leave this place in Northern Virginia. I have lived here for almost eight years. For many of those years, this building was just a house…a place I stored my things, and I went to sleep. In April, 2000, that changed. When Gee moved in, this place finally became a home for me. It was only after she arrived that pictures went up on the walls, and rooms became places to live, play and work.
Moving has been very bittersweet. This home is where I met Gee, where we courted each other, where she stayed before we drove to Seattle, where she lived, where she and I battled her cancer and where she spent her final days. This house, in many ways, is the first place I’ve ever called home, and it has been difficult to leave it. My Gee is buried a few minutes away from this house, and I go to visit her often. In some ways, I will miss being able to visit her, as she is still an important part of my life.
I’m fortunate that my family has been very supportive and understanding of how difficult this move has been for me. It is back to my family that I am going…I think Gee would understand that there are many reasons I have to do this…the greatest of which is that I need to do it to move on.
It’s May 21, 2005. In three weeks, it will be June 11th, a day that marks that marks four years have passed since Gee died. In some ways, it feels like it was yesterday. I will leave this area, at least for a while, after celebrating Gee’s life, my time with her, and mourning her death on that day. I hope one day, I find something that sounds like home again.