a life update
January 2023
Where to start?
We bought a house November 1st. A log cabin built in the 80s, built by a sweet couple who worked on it after work and on weekends for years until it was finished. It has so many quirky touches; they tailored it to be exactly what they needed and wanted out of a home, and they lived here until each of them died. Actually, I think one of them passed exactly where I am sitting right now. Given the year we’ve had, I’m no longer scared of ghosts, so that knowledge doesn’t frighten me at all. I squint into the shadows at night and talk to them sometimes, thanking them for the house and telling them how much we love it. I never knew them, but everyone did. Everybody knows where I live when I tell them whose house it was before me. And their 4 grown daughters have known my family all their lives. One went to school with my aunt, another has been close friends with my great aunt all my life. They have been sweet and gracious through this whole process, as difficult as it must have been to sell their parents’ home. I am eternally grateful for that family and I feel blessed to be in this home that they built.
It is the perfect home for us. That doesn’t mean it’s perfect or flashy or fancy (after all, it’s over 40 years old), but it is somehow the house of my dreams. Pete and I constantly talked about moving to a log cabin in the woods someday, and we’d laugh about how we had no idea how we would get there from our suburban Massachusetts life. And yet here I am, under completely unforeseen circumstances. In the summers, I would forlornly look out our windows- all of which had other houses or buildings or concrete sidewalks outside- and long to see the woods and trees and greenery that we are now surrounded by. There are so many little touches throughout the house that have reminded me of Pete from the moment I first saw it. I didn’t know Harvey, the man who built it, but I can tell from his home that he and Pete would’ve gotten along swimmingly. I can tell every electrical outlet was placed with purposeful forethought, each lightswitch, every last tiny detail. Even the spot near the woodstove for the wood storage that was made to be accessible from the basement stairs so that you don’t have to drag wood through the house–that’s a Pete detail if I’ve ever seen one.
We moved in a week before Christmas, so we’ve only been here a couple weeks. We’re still adjusting. I thought moving in would feel more ceremonious, but… it sort of just feels like we’ve always been here or like we were always meant to be here. Most of our life is still in boxes and pieces in the garage, but we’re doing the best we can. I convinced my mom to move in with us, which has been the greatest thing to happen to me since Pete died. Having her here with us every single day has been so healing for all of us. Even though she was next door to us all this year after moving to Vermont, it just wasn’t the same as having us all under the same roof. I wonder when we’ll start to drive her crazy with all our chaos, but she swears up and down that we never will.
We all have our own rooms finally, after a year without. Everyone is sleeping so much better. The house isn’t huge, but it doesn’t need to be. It is exactly what we need, and I think it might be perfect for us forever. I hope this is our forever house. I hope I grow old here. I hope my kids grow to adulthood in this house. I hope I can leave this house and the land to my boys when I’m gone. I am hoping with all that I have that this is the beginning of something wonderful.
I’m still working from home for the ice cream place as much as I can. I cut down on my childcare job from 3 days a week to 2, which has been much more manageable for me. They’ve also been taking Ford an extra day without me so I have a child-free day for the first time since I had kids. And I decided to put a pause on massage school for right now. I couldn’t give it the attention it deserved and my gut was just saying this wasn’t the right season of life for school. I do have my eyes on a program to join in the summer or fall- I truly LOVE doing massage and want to continue my certification ASAP- but I also need to prioritize settling and healing and grieving before I load up my plate so full with other things.
So that’s where we’re at for now. Having made it past the holidays makes me feel like I can finally breathe a little, but the anniversary of Pete’s death looming is on my mind constantly. But I feel like I’m in one of those phases of the swell of grief where those emotions are almost… inaccessible to me? I’m sure that’s not the healthiest, but I’m not purposefully blocking them. It feels more like a trauma response; like something my brain is doing to protect me to get me through the holidays and the anniversary. I also think my mom being here is a great distraction. Moments where I would normally be alone and sad, I’m now laughing with my mom. I don’t want to run from any of my feelings; I’m trying to work towards being able to process more of them. I am soooo close to both my boys happily sleeping in their own rooms at night again and having a whole bed and room to myself for the first time in a year. I expect a lot of the things it hasn’t been safe yet to feel might come crashing back once I’m able to sit and be still with myself in my own private space a little bit each night. I’m not looking forward to that, but I think it’s necessary.
It’s all part of the process.