Monday, March 18, 2013

The Instant Cure

These are a few pictures I snapped as we are starting to get settled in our newest space.  It feels a bit more homey with each passing day.  Jackson even found a friend yesterday, and they spent hours outside exploring the sand.  This made me smile.

But, before Sunday play dates, there was Saturday. 

Saturday was a work day.  We went "home" to work on our house that we have renters in.  It has been over a year since I have been inside.  Over the past few months, I have felt a range of emotions since we left.  First, I was overjoyed to say goodbye.  Then, I started missing it a bit.  Somewhere around Christmas time, I had forgotten all the nightmares of living and working in that old house, and decided I wanted nothing more than to return. 

We almost did.  We almost came home.

If you have not followed B Charmer for very long, the house history will not mean much to you as a reader.  To me, it has been the journey of a lifetime.  In short, I loved this historic home.  I convinced my husband to purchase it.  We lived in it and worked on it for six years.  My husband commuted many miles everyday while we lived there.  It became a source of constant frustration and money drain.  I spilled many tears over that old house.  I know I said a million times, "I'm sorry" to my husband for thinking this was a good idea.  I loved and hated it.  I loved the idea, and hated the reality.  We became a family in that house.  We grew up a lot in that house.  We learned many lessons the hardest that house. We fought in (and over) that house.  We forgave and made happy memories in that house.  I almost lost my husband in that house when he became so sick.

Oh, that house. 

When I arrived Saturday, I walked the yard.  The house looked good. It still had all of it's charm.  There was my swing on the wrap-around porch that I rocked my babies on so many nights.  There were my rose bushes lining the driveway.  Ah, yes the trees were blooming and a few flowers as well.  Then, I opened the door.  I met my husband in the kitchen were he was working.  The kitchen was always a battle.  So much many issues.  So many battles over that kitchen.

It all rushed back.  A million feelings that I cannot even begin to describe. It felt heavy and dark.  It wasn't home any more.  It was like the dread that loomed over us while we lived there, was still hanging in the air.  I didn't mention a word of this to my husband at that moment.  We worked side by side on some things.  We took a break on the porch swing.  He looked at me, and said...."why do I feel sick to my stomach just being here"?  I smiled.   I knew exactly what he meant.  We both smiled and we were never so happy that we did not come back "home". 

Life is a journey.  I do not know how many more years that house will be a part of our life.  I do know that it will forever be part of how we came to be who we are today.  It wasn't all bad.  There were many good things that came from that house.  But, for now I will be perfectly content in my little borrowed city space.  It feels nice to leave the dread behind.  It was the instant cure.

B Charmer

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