It's a rainy Sunday afternoon. Drew is at work. I am relaxing by myself. I've got my computer set up right by two windows on the second floor that look outside. It's a great view. Better than the view from my third floor "office" at Kirby House. Even better than the first floor "office" - as most of you know it was under the stairs. My best "office" though, was on the front porch. With wireless internet access and a cordless phone, I was able to do most of my "non house related chores" right there on that beautiful front porch.
That was my favorite spot - and the thing I miss most about the Kirby House (other than the great guests, but I still get to see and enjoy them once in a while) - the front porch. Oh I spent many a night watching thunderstorms out there, chatting with guests, lots of wine and cocktails were enjoyed there, as well as planning our future. I guess it's ok to plan your future, just don't rely on your plans panning out the way you thought. That's not to be taken as negative, just don't be upset when they don't work the way you planned it, I didn't know. I thought everything would work out just like Ray and I planned. I mean, we made solid decisions, took advice from financial planners, got our Trust and Wills done, and planned that one day we would sell the Kirby House, take all our equity and profits and retire.
We truly loved the Kirby House. The "House" itself. Who didn't? It is beautiful. I remember our first time walking through it. I felt at home. Most everyone who walked in the door the first time felt that way. They told me. If they didn't feel that way then something was wrong with them...according to me. So much investment of love, time, money, and maintenance. Who said a 130 year old "Painted Lady" would be cheap?! Of course we never knew our taxes would triple when we bought the old girl. But, we set out for the long haul and went on our own adventure of themed weekends, holiday parties, "Fancy Drink Contests," Cooking Classes and more. These "out of the box" creative events, along with our great hospitality and fine food got us a lot of publicity. A LOT! (Not to mention the third AAA star we received after our first year.) Much of the publicity was in the Detroit area, but also the Midwest. We found ourselves featured in Midwest Living Magazine twice, the New York Times, The Grand Rapids Press at least a dozen times, Parade Magazine, Automobile Magazine, Newspapers across the country (last year during our Titanic Dinner on the 100th anniversary - papers as far away as California), Local Channel 3 and 8 news. In 2004, The Detroit Free Press featured an article about places to get away to in order to escape the crowds of the Super Bowl. It featured three options, the Kirby House, Disney World or The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Not bad company.
We were on a whirlwind. Nothing would stop us...except the economic crash in September of 2008. I will never forget it. We were on our annual Mackinac Island trip when we watched everything collapse. Everyone put a halt to unnecessary spending. We were one of those. The summers were still insane busy, but the off/shoulder seasons were dying. Instead of two or three trips a year to Saugatuck (ie Kirby House), people made one, during the peak season.
Five days before Ray died (December 29) he asked me..."What are we gonna do?" I didn't have an answer, and he needed me to be positive. After all we were just getting ready to schedule his visit to the oncologist to set up radiation and chemotherapy. I said something like "we'll figure it out." Fortunately he didn't have to live through suffering, pain, and what would be the eventual loss of our dream.
People have asked me how I got through another three years if the economic crisis hit so hard. My response, "life insurance." What was intended to be for my support went right back into the Kirby House. (I did do some nice traveling - and I'm glad I did, because if I hadn't I would have never have been able to experience such wonderful places. At least not for a long while.) I had a life and career at Kirby House and I surely wasn't ready to leave. It took me almost a year to get enough strength in me to throw Ray's toothbrush away, two years to go through his clothes. How was I going to sell the Kirby House and move on?! I thought I could outlive the recession. 2010 hit the hardest. I know that people felt afraid to stay with me because of my grieving. They thought I needed space. That was the slowest summer EVER! Another big blow. I did everything I could.
Then it hit. I had to face the reality of doing something. Last fall my depression was really starting to get noticed by others. A friend forced me to "do something." She dragged me to my financial consultant. We looked at many options. Even spoke with "the Bank" to discuss options. I then met with my real estate agent, and finally a lawyer. Another circle of meetings with this group and I realized my only option. Let her go. (To be clear, my decision on what I needed to do with the Kirby House was a long thought out process with the consultation of professional advisors. Two were local and I so respect their privacy of my situation that, to my knowledge, they never let it out.)
In my final days at the Kirby House I would get so upset I would get sick and throw up. I had to go to the doctor and get medication. Yes, more medication. I finally moved in with Drew to get out of the house. The house that felt "like home" for so many years. I knew it was over. I faced it. I have said that what I did was more like "stopping the bleeding."
I don't know what people think of me. I'm told not to care. But I do. I do care what people think of me. That is how I was raised. My father was a Baptist Minister for crying out loud. We lived in a glass house. We had to care about what people thought of us. We had a standard to live up to. When you grow up like that you can't help but be molded by that for your future.
Also, in a small town like this rumors run rampant. When Ray was first diagnosed with congestive heart failure (after what we thought would be a routine visit to the ER for a sinus infection) a friend called from Detroit saying he heard I found Ray passed out laying on the floor in the kitchen and had to call the EMS.
So, yes...I do care. I care about the future of the Kirby House (after all I spent 15 years and lots of money caring for her, and trust me I walked away without a penny), I care about what others think of me, I care about my future, I care about my friends (by the way you find out who your REAL friends are when you are left without money, a status, or something else to give), I care about my reputation and I care for my family...blood or not.
I still cry. I cry for what I felt should have been. Ray should be here, we should be living our future, we should have been able to sell the Kirby House one day - hand her over and retire as our plan called for. I cry for that. Literally...CRY! There's nothing I can do though. I know it. I recently listened to Joyce Meyer and she was saying how we can't look back at what "was" we have to look forward at what "can be." Damn, that is hard though when your past is so close behind you - objects in mirror are closer than they appear. I can still see it. I'm taking strides though...notice I didn't say "making."
So, there are some people who avoid me when they see me. They're afraid of some awkward comment that might slip. Or, maybe their afraid of me because of some rumor they have heard about me. But I know my heart and I know it's right and at peace with the decisions I had to make on my own (which was probably the hardest part...making decisions on my own). I've even heard that people don't like my new partner (or they don't think he is "right" for me) so they quit inviting me to dinners or events. That really hurts me. It hurts him. He is the sweetest, most sincere person there is. He has the heart of a child, which Jesus Christ himself said we should all be more like.
Since Ray died I have been an open book in my blog. People know my heart. I have had to keep some things buried deep, deep down though. Personal things I just couldn't (or shouldn't) share, but I had to dig it up and share it. Maybe then I can be at peace.
I bought a sign a few years back that says "It all good on the porch." I had it hung on the Kirby House porch. I took that with me. I wanted to be reminded of my days and experiences of sitting on that front porch. The thing I miss the most.
This is my story and it has not ended. - Jimmy
