I spent the morning painting while E was in school. It’s painful, really. I’ve never experienced touch-up painting like this before. Since I turned 18, I’ve never lived anywhere longer than two years.
This time I knew where the scratches had come from. I recognized the skid marks in the stairwell from shoving the new couch around the landing. I remembered the “Oh Shoot” – or something like it – that escaped my mouth when I scraped furniture along the hallway. I was saving it from a dripping ceiling that threatened to cave in while Andrew was away on business, which ultimately left me sleeping in the dining room for a week. (Don’t worry – the entire roof was fixed long ago.) I recognize the divots in the bench seating made when our daughter first learned to ride her bike inside – – – she had yet to learn about brakes. And I can’t count the number of abandoned nail holes – stickers – markers – and other smudges I’ve painted away.
And I bawled. With every brush stroke, it was like I was erasing the last six+ years we’ve spent in this house. It felt like I was washing our memories away. I just kept thinking, “What The Hell Were We Thinking?!” We never intended to live here forever. Leaving this amazing home was always part of The Plan. I never expected it to be THIS hard.
And then Pandora played this song. I’ve added it to our Seattle Bound playlist. So Perfect.
It’s a good thing that it’s so hard to leave Milwaukee. What would it say about our lives if after seven years we could just pick up and walk away??
It’s hard. But change happens. It must. If one never gambles, one never wins. If it scares you, it might just be worth trying. The grass is greener where you water it. Pick your idiom – matters not to me. This is a change that feels right, deep down in our guts. That is, once we stop missing people we haven’t even left yet. That includes this version of ourselves – the Newlyweds, the First Time Homeowners, the New Parents, The Infant / Toddler. The laughter – the fights – the gut wrenching disappointments – the tears of joy – the midnight dance parties, disappointing culinary experiments, the fierce love/hate relationship with our historic home, our wonderfully weird neighbors, gatherings of friends & family, and everything in between – each little piece that shaped who we are today. They all get left here. Good thing I take so many snap shots.
It’ll all be clear.
Don’t may no mind to the demons that fill you with fear. The trouble – it might drag you down – if you get lost you can always get found. Just know you’re not alone because I’m gonna make this place your home.” Philip Phillips.
When I stop wallowing, I’m able to see all the good that comes from a clean slate, too. But that’s another post. Settle down.