Our Milky Way and lonliness

Before I left home; after I came back.

Before I left home I had lived in this place with my family (MY family, not my family of origin; this was MY first home, not my father's house). I remember getting out of subsidized housing and obtaining a mortgage. How proud and pleased we were that finally a mortgage was within reach for us. It was a fixer upper for sure. Panelling on walls, incorrect rise on main stairs, shag carpet, 1970's tile on kitchen floor. Musty smell, hay field in backyard prone to major floods, old roof, old bathrooms with horrid red colors. We paid $99,000 for it. It was 1999.

All our children were home, all had their own rooms here, with the exception of the twins (isn't that always the way?- just because twins shared a room before birth doesn't mean they have to after!). We were happy here. Terry was so happy to have a major project to work on and to put all his energy, talents and dreams into for his family. He first tackled the floors, putting beautiful hardwood floor down, out with the shag. He did the livingroom, master bedroom and rec-room all within the first year I believe. He re-roofed this house himself the first spring after our Feb move in. He used the old shingles to build up a rockgarden in the front. Minor cosmetic changes happened over these first few years. I decorated the kids rooms,  painted walls, and removed old wallpaper. You get the idea.  During the good years when money flowed from both our jobs, Terry built big decks and large fencing encompassing the entire property, bought a wood stove to keep us warm in winter, dug ditches for drainage, planted shrubs and trees, and installed more hardwood floors and stairs. With the exception of the main hardwood stairs, Terry did it all. Our Italy-inspired bathroom/ bedroom reno and new windows were the last projects he completed before he died.

He died in his home, this home. It is what he wanted. I was left to pick up and carry on. The same spring that he died, I got a new roof, crying in the backyard over how much he would have wanted to be there that day seeing stuff get done. That summer I hired a company to paint it this green color. I bought 4 cord of wood for the winter and stacked it. My son and I experienced the winter from hell (look it up, 2015) alone together. He in a major depression, first year university with 7 courses (god how did he do it?)  and me heading into a deep depression myself. To top off this lovely period of time we had rats in the basement. By the time my depression was full blown, in the second summer without him, I had thoughts of being unable to care for this place. The feelings I had with these thoughts solidified the decision to move on and sell the place to my daughter and her husband who said they wanted it. Thoughts and feelings just are, we don't have to act on them, but I did. Was I wrong? Maybe, maybe not, regardless, I went on a journey from home for the next 4 years.

I found a nice apartment away from my community, but close to my sister and parents, thinking convenience and family of origin would sooth my feelings and broken heart. All this move did was make me feel guilty about my poor dog, and piss me off as I threw $1650 out the window every month. So I said fuck this. I bought a house, thinking investment is what I needed for my future, thinking a fresh start with a place, just for me, picked by me, bought for me, decorated by me, and lived in by only me would be what ME needed. Nope! Wrong again. In some aspects it was a good move because it earned me mega bucks when I sold it during the housing boom. But that house was not a home it was a sterile, lonely place removed from family and friends. I tried hard to make it not so, but it was. 

So let me tell you about a mini miracle.

It is January 202, just a few days after new years. I am happily retired almost a year now. My house is paid for, I have just finishing work on my cottage. I have a new home, a new cottage, no job, freedom from lonliness and dating, and I am one "content" cookie. Or at least that is how it sure seemed to me at the time. My daughter who bought the old house had divorced her husband, her husband was renting it out to my youngest son and his girlfriend with the intent they were to buy it. The old homestead would remain in the Charlton clan. I was content with this, helping them weed the front garden, encouraging their progress with their new kitchen they installed, so happy to see another family member inhabit this special place.  However, late last fall my son and his partner decided it was too big a house, too much work to invest in and bought their own home instead. My former son-in-law was left to decide what to do with the Charlton house. So he set about fixing it up and selling it. 

The house needed some major work again, so he worked on it that winter. This brings me to the visit to my grandkids that new years. I went to the house to see them (it always pained me terribly to go to the house after I gave it up, but I wanted to see my grandkids). So, I ignored the disarray and disrepair around me and visited them. I was engaged in a conversation with my former son-in-law about when he planned to sell and what he was doing to the house in the meantime. He was pissed I think at everyone wanting to keep the house but he being the one with the mortgage. The children were leaving to play with their friends out back, they didn't like to think of not being able to come to this house ever again, heck neither did I!!!,  despite my unease when I would go there. The feelings were all a jumble, a real mismash.

And he said, "well it's too bad cause I'm selling it, so none of us can be here again" and out of that jumble of feelings, deep in my conscious all knowing true self, came these words clear as a sunny day "you can buy it, go ahead, be the hero in this movie, buy it back". "Go ahead tell him now, say it, say it!!! You can do it".  

"I'll buy it from you" I blurted.........WTF? are you crazy, you have a home, you don't want to move again, stop with the implusive decisions!!!WTF???

"I'll buy it", I repeated louder.  And the mini miracle is not so much that those words came bubbling up from my true self at that most perfect yet imperfect time, rather, it is in the fact that my critical self didn't over rule her, for once, true self got her way.  

So I bought it. I was the hero in my own movie, and I re-established myself in my home, my only true home, and I did all the things I couldn't do in 2016 in my severe depression and grief. I brought to life my  old home. I made it mine again, for my kids and grandkids to visit or stay as long as they needed, I made it safer, better, prettier and newer. 

And I am so happy, I am so at home, I am so here, I am in such the right place, I am more than content, I am so happy, did I say that already? Is it because I listened to true self? Who knows? Maybe. All I know is I am never scared, I know every creak in this house, every board, every good and bad feature. I am home. I weed the gardens with love and pride and joy and gratefulness, I clean the house with a smile as it's not a chore but it is a gift to do so. I smile when the acorns hit the roof and roll down, I mow the lawn before it's due, I check my dry basement in a heavy rain and fist pump a YES!!!! I am proud, and so glad I could do this re-establishing, this renovating, this cocooning myself for a winter from heaven, despite any amount of snowfall. I am home and ever more grateful because I lost it once.

Welcome home Sussey, so good to have you back.