1 Year

1 year ago today, I went to a lawyers office and ended my brief period of homelessness.  We signed our lives away on what we thought would be the perfect home for our family.

Now, the period of homelessness, was because we sold our home in Connecticut faster than we could find one in Illinois, so it sounds way more dramatic than it really was.  But, living in a 1,000 square foot apartment with 3 kids, a husband and dog for a month, was not walk in the park. Yet, significantly better than actually homelessness.  I survived by pretending it was a condo in Maui.  I was still optimistic and this was going to be an adventure.

I guess it has been an adventure, but we have fixed or replaced:  1 leaky roof, 24 rotten windows, 1 door that leaked so much cold air it snowed in the house, 1 washer (it exploded), 1 dryer, 1 dishwasher, 1 refrigerator, 1 sump pump (which survived 17 inches of rain in 2 days, praise God.), 1 sump pump back-up battery, 3 toilets, every single outlet, switch, switch plate, wall register grate, entry lock,  and door handle in the entire place.  I am sure that I have left something out.  We have battled more ants than is really necessary.  I am now more handy than I ever expected.  I have talked to my brother more than I would have imagined.  We have painted, scrubbed, cleaned and otherwise made habitable our hugely expensive home.  The thing is that when we bought this house, we didn't think it would be a fixer, it was supposed to be move in ready.

There are still things that don't work right or need to be replaced, but we are off life support and can manage these items as we have time and money.  Nothing is earth shattering, but I live in fear that there is something I missed!  I knew all the warts in our old house.  I knew what needed to be done, what would probably go wrong.

This house was unloved, and uninhabited for 2 years.  That takes a toll on a home.  Even though it looked lovely on the outside, it was sad on the inside.  The house didn't feel the love.  I think the house feels the love now.  I think the house realizes we are friends.  Our trash compactor stopped working about 4 weeks after we arrived.  I didn't care, we are planning to redo the kitchen anyway, so let it be a big trash can.  One day about 6 months later, Hannah was playing with the buttons and it started working again.  The house regenerated itself.  At the moment, we knew that the house was on the team.

You might think we are crazy, a house is not an animate object, but they are in some fashion living things.  They need to be loved.  If you don't love them, they make you pay, and pay dearly.  Our house is still without a name.  It still really doesn't feel like home yet, but at least I don't feel like it hates us.  Maybe next year we will be on a first name basis and it will feel like home.

Faces

I see faces. I am not crazy, but I see faces of the people that I left. I think it is the minds way of making all the change seem familiar. To look for the people and things that are like the way it used to be, to make things seem like they are familiar.

I am painting every room the same color it used to be. I am decorating the house to look like my old one. I feel like maybe I should change, do something different. Perhaps it is too much for me to process too much change, I need to make something, the things I can control like they used to be. I want to go home, to go back.

The kids are struggling with the fact that everything is different. They are overwhelmed by all the change, all the new people. Hannah hates everyone. She only likes people that are familiar, which of course are the ones that are not here.

We can not go back. Even if we did, it wouldn't be the same. That bridge is burnt. Our old lives are left in a smoking heap. They don't exist anymore.

So, I look for faces, things that are like they used to be. Anything to chase the overwhelming loneliness away. Slowly I suppose we will make friends and less and less will we see the faces of our old friends in strangers in the grocery store.