This is one of my metaphoric posts. I think if I visualize something I can make it stick in my mind.
That little house in Nowhere, Missouri has really been a type of thorn in my side. Years ago…two? three? When we inherited it from my husband’s dad, I saw the connection that my husband had with his dad while we were discussing what to do with the house. The house his dad built.
I know how attached I am to items built by my dad, so we kicked around the idea of slowing down life and moving to the little house. The light in my husband’s eyes made my heart warm. He has sacrificed, and worked so hard for our family for many years which enabled me to be a stay-at-home mom. It’s his turn to enjoy life, feeling close to his dad’s spirit.
As most houses do, the house settled. Well, actually, one of the foundation walls was in a precarious state. We had someone fix that for us as well and replace the roof and perform all the home inspections.
Some of you know my father-in-law was a heavy smoker. I couldn’t breathe in the house, I had to have my rescue inhaler with me at all times. Masks have helped a lot and I believe we have reduced the smell to an almost liveable level. However, the house makes me cough….a lot. There is still work to do.
Anyway, as I’ve whined about before, there are so many cracks in the walls and ceiling. Each and every seam is cracked. Oh! I forgot about the walls with wallpaper or a wallpaper border that had to come down. My wish was to tear everything down to the studs and begin again. My husband was the practical one….that type of thing takes money we just don’t have. So we do what we can, when we can, with the money we have saved.
We have removed wallpaper piece by piece, scrubbed the surfaces of everything multiple times, and I have used my very amateurish skill repairing the cracks.
All the cracks.
It’s a process that can’t be rushed. If the desired look is to be acceptable to my little perfectionistic mind, it takes a very long time. I found the hard way that one can’t just slap some joint compound over the cracks and call it good. It’s a process of retaping the seams and covering with the proper layers of joint compound—feathering out each layer and sanding between. Hopefully, in the end, the cracks will never be noticeable to my eyes.
I’ll know they are there but I worked hard to repair them. I did it with raw determination, lots of do-overs, a ton of sanding (thank you, facemasks), and more wiping of dust.
One room is complete. Well, I think I need to go over some areas that I’m not happy with and feather out some flaws, but I know I can do it.
Rebuilding is being accomplished, one little step at a time. Just as my mind. One step at a time. One little piece of the puzzle placed with love and caring for myself.
In the back of my mind I wonder how limited my life may be…..will cancer return? I don’t know. All I have is today. This moment. I deserve to enjoy this moment. A moment spent sipping on a cup of coffee, looking at the leaves on the trees, listening to the birds sing, marvelling at the very blue sky, the softness of the clouds as they pass.
The moment I have to repair a crack in my mind.
None of us know how much time we will have, I certainly don’t know what my next moment will bring, I simply know that this very moment I have a chance to improve the moment.
It can be done, I know. It simply takes time. If a moment is passed without recognition, it’s a moment one can never get back. It’s never too late to pull up your bootstraps and make an inch of progress. It’s one inch further than you were yesterday, this morning, last hour, the minute that just passed.
……and for the rah, rah moment……go ahead, patch those cracks! You can do it, you just have to be a little patient.