I have recently realized that giving someone a tour of my home office may be off- putting.
There, atop the rolltop desk, sits the beautiful lavender urn containing my mother's remains, surrounded by some lovely mementos like her stuffed toys and chocolates wrapped in purple and mauve.
A short distance away, at the other end of the top of the rolltop, sit the urns of Peanut and Ivan, my two beloved cats who were brothers, born of Princess, and who both died at 15 years of age within two months of each other. Bonded even in death.
Next to the rolltop desk sits a bookcase, and atop that, a small urn with some of the remains of my younger brother, Wayne, who passed at the age of 55 from complications of pneumonia.
Surrounding him are more than a dozen miniature motorcycle models that were once his, a baby shoe, his handprint in plaster, and other memorabilia from his life that I have dedicated to him in a mini-shrine of sorts.
Back to the rolltop display is a tooth from my late horse Pumpkin, along with a braided strand of his mane tied with a pink ribbon.
There is also a tooth from my mini-horse Winston, one of his baby teeth that fell out that I just so happened to find in his feed bucket one day.
And there is a mug with a horse on the front that contains numerous horse chestnuts from Pumpkin, some hoof trimmings from Alistair the mini-donkey, and some perfectly shaped hoof trimmings from my mini-horse Winston.
A veritable museum of natural history.
Some may feel these are a bit too macabre to be on display; a bit too science-lab-like and not at all like a home office should be.
But that home office is my sanctuary.
My place of peace and enjoyment and love.
It's also home to an aquarium which holds three small Neon Tetras at the moment.
There is a litter box for the cats, a cat bed, a cat toy box, a cat perch so they can look out the window on sunny days, and a place for their food and cat milk.
It is where I roll out my yoga mat each and every day and press "Play" on the CD player and flex and stretch and enjoy that half hour to myself.
It is where I lift weights and do push ups and pay the bills.
Catching up on emails while looking out the window is one of my favorite pastimes.
There is always someone walking by or interesting weather to be watched.
It is a sanctuary where the door is always open, and even when it is closed, as it is a French door with window panes so everyone can see inside anyways.
There is no such thing as privacy there.
It is a welcoming refuge for any and all.
Especially if one has four legs and purrs.
It is my wellness retreat, my go-to getaway, my memorabilia storage space.
And if I happen to also share it with the remains of my dead relatives and pets and some of their body parts, so be it.
It is a place of love, after all.
A room of respite, refueling and refreshing.
A reminder of all that I have had and cherished, and continue to have and cherish in the present tense.
It is more than a home office; it is a catch-all and do-all that also just happens to have a few desks and chairs within its four walls.