My Dad, my Husband, and I made the seat for this chair. Bob's Mom saved it from the trash.
It was one small project in making a new home. This past month, instead of posting here, I have been: packing up our ever growing pile of belongings, moving them fifty miles (with plenties of generous help from my Brother and my Friend), cleaning up ye olde apartment, moving in brand new furniture, & unpacking the now slightly reduced (thanks to Goodwill trips) pile of belongings.
I have been making a new home for us. Luckily we like it so much here, and are getting so many good vibes from the space and people, that it was inclined to feel like home. One exciting thing about this place is that it is only a few minutes from Bob's workplace. Another exciting thing is that it is near all of the things we are used to being so far away from. We even have a laundry room around the corner.
For me the most exciting thing about this place is that we are allowed to paint and in general are encouraged to make the space our own. No bans on nails or hooks or whatever little touches we want to add. I've been watching interior design shows (we splurged and now have cable and it's even HD) and getting inspired.
I have been busy. It felt good and busy. Also, it gave me a goodly amount of time for deep thought away from the pace of my usual daily routines. I come back to those routines, including using the internet, as a refreshed stranger. But the wheels for communication do feel a bit rusty.
Unfortunately, the day we moved out of our old apartment was also the day of a funeral for a very dear lady. Robert's Grandma Ruth has passed on. Though Bob and myself are neither one of us ones to speak much of our grief, it does not mean it is not there. In fact, I feel it is too deep for us to really put into words or even expressions.
There has been sorrow here, and there has been a renewed feeling of the beauty of life and our desire to make the most of it. Robert has been telling me stories about his Grandma, something I encouraged him to do to deal with grieving, and she will definitely be remembered by us and many others.
One of the memories he shared that most touched me is that when he was little and lifting buckets at the farm, Grandma Ruth would empathetically make noises as he would strain to lift them. I believe it was this kind of caring and strength that so endeared her to me even in the short time that I spent with her. She liked my Wonder Woman bag, and to this day when I look at it I still start to glow with that memory.
Grandma Ruth, like Bob himself, has shown me how beautiful quiet & gentle are. Though I have always been inclined to see beauty in the blustery & shout-at-the-top-of-my-lungs sort. She was definitely a beautiful person. Her love of some of the most overlooked but powerful parts of life, like rest and a room, will stay with me.
And of course, I won't go much into all the deep careful thoughts I have measured toward figuring out my stance on death & keeping my complete and utter fear of it at bay.
On the other hand, I feel so blessed. I am enjoying one of the things I enjoy most, making a home. It is one of the things I like most about living, and not everybody gets to do it.
It has been quite a month. Forgive my clumsy recounting of it, but I wanted to share it.
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