When you do everything for yourself and make all your decisions alone, having shirtless brown skinned boys and men buzzing around your home lifting, building and cleaning up after themselves can feel like Christmas every day.
An enormous rusty box of a dumpster replaces your car in the driveway. The small job they are doing will be a big mess and they will require this big box to hold that mess. The box is like a big present to me even though it will carry away the floor my babies played on, the place we ate most meals as a family of four and then a family of three, the windows we looked out of to notice the backyard maple tree changing with the seasons,with questions ‘are those snowflakes, momma?’, and the room we danced in as we did the dishes.
As much as I have loved my home like a quirky, warm and colourful friend with hang ups and problems, I look forward to having room to move in, work in and grow in.
When the dumpster leaves and the work is done the future will arrive. The future arrives every day but it tiptoes so quietly you can’t notice it. When you change your surroundings you celebrate all the different ways you can live because you have shaken things up. A new vista, a different perspective, an appreciation of everything stomps in with a marching band and a drum roll.
I have a new post published on my Flying Solo blog- take a peek at Buffalo Soldier