A List of Many Thanks

Looking around this year, I have a long list of ‘thanks’.  Many to people I’ll never know. Thanks to all the hard-working plumbers, cabinet builders and tilers.  

I now have a sink that works. 

Gorgeous hand built cabinets. 

Tile backsplash. 

More thanks to all the painters and flooring installers. I also have waterproof flooring that looks beautiful. 

 

Freshly painted walls and mantle look amazing. 

Even more thanks to a devoted reconstruction team of project advisers and planners. Last year was very hard and at times the problems seemed endless. But with their help and determination, our flooded house is now a cozy, beautiful home again. 

I know there are many others. Friends and neighbors and family who helped, advised, encouraged and supported me. The unsung hero’s of the reconstruction office. The extra helpers on the job site. The guys who haul in the supplies. And the ones who haul it all out. To the packers and movers. To all who I saw and all who I didn’t. 

Many Many Many Thanks. 

Recovering

It’s been a crazy, difficult, wonderful and unbelievable year. On so many levels, change has happened whether I want it to or not. I’ve done my best to find my way in, around and through it all while still finding ways to create anyway. 

But sometimes, I’m forced to stop. My body had been showing me I needed rest, but I ignored it. There was just so much to do: hundreds of boxes to unpack, new rooms to redecorate and reorganize, cleaning, weeding, trimming and planting. Oh my. 

Too much stress leads to mess. 

Yup, my body was a mess. I have a chronic condition that is stress related and most of the time now, I can keep it under control. I had a harder time when my children were little understanding it and working with it but I’ve learned a lot over the years. 

I know when it’s usually going to crop up. I’m prepared with tools to help. But the biggest help is seeing it, accepting it and letting it run its course. Then it goes away in a week or two and all is well. This time around, I ignored all the signs. I pushed myself harder which created more stress and by the time I decided to listen, my usual tools weren’t enough. Finally, I went to the doctor. After suffering for months, I got a prescription and better tools which helped in a matter of days. 

Creative recovery. 

I don’t like to sit around but the window seat in the front room has a beautiful view. I can see the sky and clouds move, trees far and near, little hints of distant hills. So for a week or so, I sat. Watched the clouds move. Enjoyed the colors of the sky and distant trees. And listened to the crows talking. 

I planted flowers on my patio. Hung colored baskets of petunias. And even planted my garden which I’d thought would not get done in time, this year. I hung some art on the walls of my recovered home. In between it all, I did manage to get a few days in the studio. 

And finally, I had a weekend that felt normal, comfortable and, maybe, safe again. 

I can see faces in the clouds and trees and leaves again. 

And I look around and breathe and see, I’m home again.  

Moving Back In

If you’ve been reading here, you’ll have heard the back story. If not, I’ll simplify it here: water damage in July led to mold, demolition, moving out, reconstruction, moving back in. 

This all sounds like a nice, straight line, right? Wrong. It’s been a long, twisting tromp through the woods of insurance adjusters, agents, construction estimators, reconstruction teams, moving teams, hotel rooms and hundreds of boxes to unpack. 

But we’re here. Now. Finally. And it only took 11 months. 

Boxed Up. 

I’ve always moved myself. I’ve packed, labeled, moved and unpacked the boxes. So having a moving company come in and do it seems like heaven, right? Kinda. 

The movers arrived and unloaded the truck starting with the big pieces: couch, tables, chairs, art work. Then came the boxes, oh my.  I did try to get the boxes in the right rooms, but with an open floor plan and over 160 boxes, stacking was the best option. 

We couldn’t see out the nook windows, but we did have space to eat. And I was able to find the coffee maker and toaster almost right away. 

Unboxing days. 

It took 10 days. Slicing open boxes marked: kitchen, dining room or living room to find paper, bubble wrapped things. Sometimes one box had one thing. Sometimes many, many small things. From paper towels and paper clips to china and crystal, we found it all.  Somethings I’d thought I’d lost and some things, I wanted to lose. 

I unpacked and washed and re-organized. With new cabinets, things didn’t fit exactly as they had before which was a good thing. It made me choose: things I wanted and use vs things I’d just had. I didn’t expect unpacking boxes would be a roller coaster ride through my past. Bringing grief and tears as well as happiness and smiles.

Living in my new/old home. 

Because of the water damage, many things needed to be reconstructed. I walked through the process of picking new cabinets, countertops, tile, flooring with many mixed feelings. My husband and I built this house 29 years ago. I carefully chose all the finishes: floors, countertops, tile and paint. Now I had to do it all over again. 

Many people were excited for me to have, they said, “A new kitchen.” But you see, I didn’t want a new kitchen because I loved what I’d chosen all those years ago. I had to face that it was gone and I had to move on. I made my new choices with crossed fingers. And after choosing tile for the kitchen island and moving out of our home, I realized it wouldn’t work. I decided on a quartz top for the island. Not everyone agreed, but now, it’s obvious it was the right choice. 

At home at last. 

This morning, I walked down the stairs, turned the corner and for the first time, I wasn’t shocked. It all felt right. I knew where everything was: coffee maker, plates, cups, silverware. And I had everything Michael needed to make his wonderful pancakes, a Sunday favorite. 

It’s been 16 days now. 

All the boxes are unpacked.

We’ve moved everything back in. 

But most important, our house is, now home. 

Finally.