Bet you thought I was piled under a rubble of old ductwork by now.
Well, I've lived to tell the tale of our first adventures in having contract work done on the home. And not just any old work, but the dirty, ugly labors of cleaning and refitting the underbelly (and a little bit of the outerbelly, I guess) of a ranch home built in 1967.
But I have to admit, it's not much of a tale of how it was done, really. Because while I have learned more than I ever thought possible about foundation piers, hydraulic lifts, masonry, ducts, and mold removal... I couldn't tell you the first thing about actually doing it. I just watched a variety of skilled men come in and out of my home and loitering around it doing just that. Well that, and making a lot of noise and requiring the shutdown of our HVAC system on a not-so-warm week in March.
I fought this whole process much like I initially fought the idea of going to marriage counseling last fall. Things aren't falling apart, everything looks good, so why do we have to work on it now? So what if things are a little messy in just a few places? We can just avoid those areas anyways, and be just fine, right? Right?
Naah. Not so much.
And counseling - well - if you haven't heard from us about it in person... I'll just say we glow when we talk about it. Really. It wasn't a magic 8-ball or a fast fix or really anything life-changing except to open up our marriage to an expert who helped us tidy up some areas that were in particular need of it for a season. We loved it. We miss it. And we know we'll go back the second we sense the need. Because we will always have a need for tidying because we are imperfect. And I love our imperfect marriage because it's what makes the journey... well... an actual journey.
The same way I love our imperfect home. The one we opened up to some experts to come in and do some work (which isn't exactly finished yet, but doggonit, the bulk is and I'm going to CELEBRATE!) on. Because while the money spent on working on these things could have gone to prettying and decorating and who-knows-whating, it went towards stabilizing and grounding and making room for healthy... for safe... and for longer-lasting. And sure, I'm probably romanticizing common work done on our home but it's been a huge lesson for me.
And believe me, I was front row for the lesson so I might as well take something from it. Working from home and still not having a car put me in prime location to take the whole of it in.
And as I sat there in our living room this morning, in complete and serene quiet (compared to last Monday) and looked out over our front yard (which is part of the next project, which is the grading/drainage work soon to begin tomorrow) and reflected on the progress that had been made in a week - I am just overwhelmed with a deep love for this place.
We'll never have all of the right dressings or furniture or trees. There will surely be weeds and scuffs on the walls and nicks on the floors. There will always be something I want to change or that Cliff will want to fix. You don't arrive at perfect in a home or in a marriage, and I love it not solely but in part because of that.
It will always be a day by day process of getting closer to where you want to be, and as maddening as that can be sometimes, it makes us better people.
Well, I've lived to tell the tale of our first adventures in having contract work done on the home. And not just any old work, but the dirty, ugly labors of cleaning and refitting the underbelly (and a little bit of the outerbelly, I guess) of a ranch home built in 1967.
But I have to admit, it's not much of a tale of how it was done, really. Because while I have learned more than I ever thought possible about foundation piers, hydraulic lifts, masonry, ducts, and mold removal... I couldn't tell you the first thing about actually doing it. I just watched a variety of skilled men come in and out of my home and loitering around it doing just that. Well that, and making a lot of noise and requiring the shutdown of our HVAC system on a not-so-warm week in March.
I fought this whole process much like I initially fought the idea of going to marriage counseling last fall. Things aren't falling apart, everything looks good, so why do we have to work on it now? So what if things are a little messy in just a few places? We can just avoid those areas anyways, and be just fine, right? Right?
Naah. Not so much.
And counseling - well - if you haven't heard from us about it in person... I'll just say we glow when we talk about it. Really. It wasn't a magic 8-ball or a fast fix or really anything life-changing except to open up our marriage to an expert who helped us tidy up some areas that were in particular need of it for a season. We loved it. We miss it. And we know we'll go back the second we sense the need. Because we will always have a need for tidying because we are imperfect. And I love our imperfect marriage because it's what makes the journey... well... an actual journey.
The same way I love our imperfect home. The one we opened up to some experts to come in and do some work (which isn't exactly finished yet, but doggonit, the bulk is and I'm going to CELEBRATE!) on. Because while the money spent on working on these things could have gone to prettying and decorating and who-knows-whating, it went towards stabilizing and grounding and making room for healthy... for safe... and for longer-lasting. And sure, I'm probably romanticizing common work done on our home but it's been a huge lesson for me.
And believe me, I was front row for the lesson so I might as well take something from it. Working from home and still not having a car put me in prime location to take the whole of it in.
And as I sat there in our living room this morning, in complete and serene quiet (compared to last Monday) and looked out over our front yard (which is part of the next project, which is the grading/drainage work soon to begin tomorrow) and reflected on the progress that had been made in a week - I am just overwhelmed with a deep love for this place.
We'll never have all of the right dressings or furniture or trees. There will surely be weeds and scuffs on the walls and nicks on the floors. There will always be something I want to change or that Cliff will want to fix. You don't arrive at perfect in a home or in a marriage, and I love it not solely but in part because of that.
It will always be a day by day process of getting closer to where you want to be, and as maddening as that can be sometimes, it makes us better people.
1 comment:
gosh, I enjoy reading your writing so very much. And I love how you are tying in all these lessons to each other. If it isn't too personal to share, I would love to hear more about your experience in counseling. We had discussed this somewhat briefly last year, but I was the one that fought it. To me, it was like admitting something was horribly wrong, and I didn't think so and didn't want it to be so. So your outlook is striking to me: tidying things up and working on things to make an even stronger foundation. When I look at it that way, instead of such a negative and horrible thing, it isn't so scary and doesn't seem so bad. - Ashley
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