Our Roof: Hurricane Milton

Home is where the roof needs to be fixed ...

After Hurricane Milton took three quarters of our roof, we called an army of roofers to give us estimates for repairs for our insurance company.

It’s surprising, the number of companies who wanted no part of repairing part of a roof.  They wouldn’t even come to look at it.  It wouldn’t be a job they could do and make both parts look the same unless they replaced the entire roof.  With the age of our house, (1972), they told us it would be easier and less costly for them to replace the entire roof. 

Our insurance company balked, saying they would only pay to have the ruined portion of the roof repaired.  Robert and I would be responsible for paying for the rest of the new roof.

One company at least put a heavy tarp on the bad part of the roof to keep it from leaking any further into our ceilings below. 

We decided to get an independent claims adjuster to argue our case. They seemed to think Robert and I were right.  The insurance company should pay to have the roof repaired correctly, even if it meant replacing the entire roof.  The claims adjuster would act as our advocate.  He assured us we would have our Home back the way it should be.

I couldn’t quit thinking about that word, “Home”. I guess I’ve moved so many times to so many different towns and states that no house has felt like ‘Home’ to me for a long time.

I realize Home can be a high rise apartment, a cottage in the woods, or a fishing cabin by the river; it’s where you hang your hat —on the oak hall tree in the foyer; it’s where you can scratch any old place that itches —and if the itch gets too bad, you have Calamine Lotion in the medicine cabinet.

The only place I ever felt truly ‘Home’ was where I grew up; the house I left every morning for school; where I believed in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy; where I had my forever friends over to play.

Home was where my boo-boos got kissed; where I learned to drive, had my first date, my first kiss, and where I always felt loved ---no matter what. Home is where when I’m not there, I’m like the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle.  

In all the places I’ve lived, only one was my “Hometown” and where Home was.  All of those things are still true, but what’s odd now is, I can see they only fill my past –-those things are all what Home was.

Now in my Golden Years, it feels different.  When I think of what THE most important thing Home is, it’s family and it’s still feeling loved.  That’s what Home is.

Home is right here and the roof got busted and we want it fixed.  My Hometown will always be where I grew up, a long time ago .... 

But now I know, Home will always be wherever Robert is …

Poet/Writer/Author of 5 books.
Quora Top Writer 2018.
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