My body aches. The stress is building up in my neck and back. J.D. and I are both on edge. He just left for work, and now I should get to work too. Maybe I'll read poetry out loud to the baby while lying down for awhile, that might help me feel better.
Eight years ago we were newly married and had just moved to St. Louis and into this apartment. While things here have been mostly good, we're both ready for a change. We want something of our own. And I guess since we've been waiting for a house for so long, one wouldn't think a couple of days would be a big deal, but even a couple of minutes feels like ages right now.
I keep wanting to picture: my shade garden out front, the hanging baskets of flowers on the porch, my vegetable garden in the back yard. J.D. mowing the new lawn we would plant. BBQs and dinners on the deck, maybe with company. Filling the bird-feeder and watching for Cardinals. Doing laundry upstairs in our own washer and dryer. I can't even picture using the dishwasher. Folding the baby's clothes and having a place for everything to be neat and organized (at least in the beginning). Then long, wonderful soaks in that beautiful bathtub. I dream about maybe getting a small, potted fragrant olive tree by the front entrance area and stairway, so the whole house would smell delicious (or maybe we'd have to put it on the deck). I picture trying to place our swap-meet furniture to its best advantage. We would joke with everyone to come see our crappy furniture. But mostly, we'd just have a place we could continue to grow.
But regardless of what happens, we have each other, which is all we need. Especially today, when thinking of the loss of many families, to have your loved ones is really to always have a home.
No comments:
Post a Comment