It’s My House

It’s a gut punch and a heart scream and it’s freedom ringing as I start to recognize myself again after years of wondering where I had gone.

I was so sad to leave that house. That perfect little house. So sad to leave all the smells and the plans and the hopes and sounds. The perfect, perfect park in the back yard, and the precise lines of the beautiful wood fence my husband and I had built together. My beloved mantle, made out of a rail road tie. The backyard I had always imagined with a goldendoodle puppy running around.

It’s digging deep and taking chances. It’s pulling MY OWN DRILL that I bought FOR MY VERY OWN SELF on my birthday and installing drywall anchors like a boss.

It’s yellow walls in the kitchen, even though yellow isn’t really “my thing”.

It’s seeing the kids’ bedroom coming together, just like I had pictured it.

It’s releasing the shame that sweeps over me when I see all 4 of my kids sharing a room and wonder what kind of terrible mother can’t provide her kids with a bigger, better house.

It’s the joy as these precious humans run in and out of the house, a wake of muddy pond water, discarded socks, and empty chip bags behind them.

It’s the security of cousins next door and Grandma and Grandpa stopping by with Great Harvest cinnamon chip bread.

I didn’t know I needed to break off all the power he had over me in this way. Love knew. Love took me from the things I held onto, into a hopeful new adventure. Love offered me a chance to settle in deep, to carve out a place of new beginnings for my little family.

I’m really good at it, you know. Carving a home out anywhere. I have done it all over the world. I have done it for bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh. I have done it for kids I hardly knew and for friends who became family. I did it for children that came from my body and now I get to do it for me.

It’s a perfect silver grey going on the walls in sweeping streaks.

It’s weeding out the pots and pans I don’t need because my kitchen is half the size it once was!

It’s my dear friend, next door, living life, and we get to pause in the midst of our cluttered chaos and have some French pressed coffee together.

It’s safety

It’s hope

It’s my new house.