So, the initial twinkling in my gut offered by the prospect of rallying to help American take it down a notch has grown into a sparkly new equilibrium that I’m so relieved has arrived.
Shortly after we made that decision to go an adventure, we tore the entire house apart.
Actually, those activities are not related. Several months ago, Jacob and I were in a middle of an argument and the topic shifted to the condo, it’s state of cleanliness, whose jurisdiction various cleaning tasks fall under, the piles of junk that have no home and whether or not I have ever felt really welcome to live into the space. In a “Fine!” “Fine!” moment, we decided to resolve the issues by marking off an entire weekend to buy some shelving units, buy some new furniture, get rid of awful furniture and reorganize in general. I also intended to give away copious amounts of stuff since I feel liberated when I do that.
We did not have an entire weekend to do that until 2 weeks ago. However, before we could get down to it, we invited a couple from church to move into our guest room for the next three months before they move to California. This added a certain amount of urgency to find new places for all of the stuff that was stacked up in the guest room.
So, reorganizing weekend rolls around and I feel great. I move from task to task with verve. I borrow my brother’s car and drive not just once but twice to IKEA. I stay up working until 10:30 on Saturday night, sweeping and setting little things right. Jacob’s head cold doesn’t bother me at all. I just pick up the slack. There is a powerful feeling infusing my muscles that sings, “This is finally going to be done.”
Sunday moved a little slower but still powerfully. We fought a little because, seriously, I was upending the environment that Jacob has been living in the last five years and, although we discussed every decision, it was still hard for him. I totally empathize.
By Sunday night, we were in a good place. We had the major shelves up in the living room with everything cleared out of the guest room. Jacob had gotten rid of the gigantic and superfluous couches and I had gotten a couple to pick up the broken kitchen table on Saturday night. We made the old dining room table into Jacob’s new desk that he didn’t have to share with anyone and we anticipated building the new dining room table sometime during the week before our Shabbat dinner for about 10 people.
On Monday morning, Jacob started having abdominal pains. By 9:00 that night, he no longer possessed his appendix.
This was not part of our plans.
Still, I was feeling good. Tranquil. My feet were completely on the ground so I did not get knocked off-balance.
This is an amazing feeling, people. One can handle being exhausted if one hasn’t been knocked over.
By Thursday, Jacob was feeling well enough to help his brother put together the new dining room table. All the people coming for dinner were intimates so I didn’t mind them seeing the chaos of our possessions that were still out in the open. Because Jacob’s brother helped out, I could make soup to be warmed on Friday and lay out the ingredients ahead of time for the challah that Jacob could mix and set to rise before I got home from work.
Since then, our roommates have moved in and are wonderful. Jacob and I have had little tiffs but have worked them out without much ado and I have continued to make forward progress with the house while feeling comfortable to just sit and rest when I need to, knowing that it will all get done eventually now that it’s started.
I guess I wanted to share my new state of mind with you all since so many of my recent posts have shared my interior struggles. I credit lots of therapy, difficult self-reflection, amazing support from my husband and a sense of comfort in my relationship with God for giving me a framework to cradle me and gently push me upwards until I was above-ground again. I'm sure I'll fall into the depths again but I will not take this season of golden autumnal sunshine for granted. It has been long-awaited and sought after.
All my Favourite People are Broken - "I hate you. And I'm embarrassed you're my mom." "I feel you, bud." "We still have to wash your hair." **** His insults are genuine and heartfelt. And I tw...