Wednesday, December 30, 2015
August is a reflective month for me. Not January...August. It's my birth month and I tend to look at my life and plan, worry, and wonder about what the next year will look like. In the past I've thought that the plans I made would happen and most of the worries wouldn't. This year I think it'll be 50/50. So much of what we think we have control over is an illusion. I've learned all I can do is to handle the the details to the best of my ability and leave the results to God. I know there are things on my plate that I CAN do sown thing about and things I can't. I can clean my garage and make more space both physically and spiritually. I can't do much about the ovrerabudnace of flies. I can clean up my credit and take steps to compete my degree. I can't do anything about my singlehood. Not sure I want to. It does no good to worry about how long the car will last. Just keep it
Our house..in the middle of the Street
The title of this post is a line from one of my favorite Madness songs. My train of thought is also stopping at the CSNY station today...."Our house is a very,very,very fine house". The middle of the street is a more accurate description of my current house. At this moment it's not particularly fine but it's safe and my kiddos are there. I moved into this house almost 3 years ago with a lot of help from my parents and friends. It wasn't my ideal structure or location and a significant downgrade in my eyes from the house I lived in as married person. I felt like I was settling. I unpacked what was necessary and stacked the rest of the boxes in the garage to deal with "some other time". Truthfully, I never really moved into this house, not with my heart. Bottom line - I needed a place to live. Period. That's all I saw this place as until recently.
Sitting on the patio having coffee with a dear friend she said to me "Good God Selsor,,,,when are you going to stop treating this place as temporary"? "This IS your effing house. You LIVE here, start acting like it and I suggest you start with these damn weeds". She had a point. The majority of my one acre lot is overgrown with plants ie., weeds, that I have never even watered but they grow like wildfire. Tree stumps and old bike parts. A funky old shed that serves as a black widow farm and practice canvas for my sons graffiti art. Tumbleweeds breed freely here. I have a patio slab but no cover. My wood trim needs to be repainted and I need some electrical work done - and that's just the outside!
Another dear friend who helped me pack my old life into many of those boxes still sitting untouched in my garage suggested that THIS was my reality house. She was right but until recently all I saw was the harsh reality of all the things that weren't right about it. I'm not talking about just simple aesthetics. I do have some serious functional and safety issue that need to be addressed. Basically anything the seller did when flipping this house was half-assed at best. I can't DIY all the problems and to my dismay there is no money tree growing among the weeds.
In my mind this was just a halfway house. I never really intended to STAY. Last night the weight of it all sunk in. Maybe I'm feeling reflective since it's almost New Years. Maybe it's the fact that I had to drive by my old house 4 times yesterday that got me thinking. THAT house was perfect in structure and location but it was not a very, very, very fine house. THAT house holds all the bad memories of my marriage. The lies and broken promises. Hurt feelings and words like knives that we both threw at each other. THAT house remembers all the pain.
THIS house has mostly happy memories. The overjoyed faces of my kids when they realized we could fit our beloved couch in the living room. Movie nights and sleepovers. Lots of "firsts" that are only ours. THIS is the house where my kids will get their driver's licenses - one already has. THIS house sees me entertain friends with a light and happy heart. THIS house is the reality house where we all get to choose what we keep and what we let go of. THIS house is the one I can afford and lets me still provide them with the extras. THIS is the house that I'm truly so grateful for because at night, all my babies lay their heads down under one roof with me. That'll change sooner than I'd like as they become independent and find their paths in life but THIS is MY house. It has kept us safe and together. It deserves more respect than it's been given. It's time to unpack the boxes, let go of the past and finally move in.
Sitting on the patio having coffee with a dear friend she said to me "Good God Selsor,,,,when are you going to stop treating this place as temporary"? "This IS your effing house. You LIVE here, start acting like it and I suggest you start with these damn weeds". She had a point. The majority of my one acre lot is overgrown with plants ie., weeds, that I have never even watered but they grow like wildfire. Tree stumps and old bike parts. A funky old shed that serves as a black widow farm and practice canvas for my sons graffiti art. Tumbleweeds breed freely here. I have a patio slab but no cover. My wood trim needs to be repainted and I need some electrical work done - and that's just the outside!
Another dear friend who helped me pack my old life into many of those boxes still sitting untouched in my garage suggested that THIS was my reality house. She was right but until recently all I saw was the harsh reality of all the things that weren't right about it. I'm not talking about just simple aesthetics. I do have some serious functional and safety issue that need to be addressed. Basically anything the seller did when flipping this house was half-assed at best. I can't DIY all the problems and to my dismay there is no money tree growing among the weeds.
In my mind this was just a halfway house. I never really intended to STAY. Last night the weight of it all sunk in. Maybe I'm feeling reflective since it's almost New Years. Maybe it's the fact that I had to drive by my old house 4 times yesterday that got me thinking. THAT house was perfect in structure and location but it was not a very, very, very fine house. THAT house holds all the bad memories of my marriage. The lies and broken promises. Hurt feelings and words like knives that we both threw at each other. THAT house remembers all the pain.
THIS house has mostly happy memories. The overjoyed faces of my kids when they realized we could fit our beloved couch in the living room. Movie nights and sleepovers. Lots of "firsts" that are only ours. THIS is the house where my kids will get their driver's licenses - one already has. THIS house sees me entertain friends with a light and happy heart. THIS house is the reality house where we all get to choose what we keep and what we let go of. THIS house is the one I can afford and lets me still provide them with the extras. THIS is the house that I'm truly so grateful for because at night, all my babies lay their heads down under one roof with me. That'll change sooner than I'd like as they become independent and find their paths in life but THIS is MY house. It has kept us safe and together. It deserves more respect than it's been given. It's time to unpack the boxes, let go of the past and finally move in.
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