I’m slowly putting away Christmas.
It’s been a year now since we bought our place. It’s only the second time we’ve owned a home.
The first house was big and beautiful. An autumn palette on the first floor, a library that housed not only our treasured books, but my treasured piano. Brand new kitchen appliances including a gas stove that was perfection.
We got married in that house!
G had his own office and I had mine. I painted the walls lavender, had a plum chair and ottoman. Movie posters covered the walls.
We had two sinks in the master bath. To this day, two sinks still send me into luxury mode. I will never not be impressed by a double vanity.
Our dear, dear friends Mark and Andrea lived nearby. Those two are wunderkinds. Numerous degrees, “obtainers of rare antiquities.” They always find a unique house to house themselves and their collections; their home in Ypsilanti, MI was in the historical register. In the back yard, they had a building that everyone called the Garage Mahal. I think six cars were in there at any one time? I’m sure G and Mark will correct me if need be once they read this. (Please note that these two worked Ford and GM accounts in Detroit for years. If you don’t talk about or love cars in Detroit, you’re an anomaly. You’re me.)
When Andrea pursued her Master’s while still working her day job, Mark became a constant presence in our house. We could expect him to come over straight from work. I’d have dinner ready, extra helpings made since I was now feeding two towering guys. Or they would take me out to eat, usually Thai or Japanese. Sometimes we’d catch a late matinee. On Fridays though, it was Battlestar Galactica night and then video games.
I became a caregiver while in that first house, both long distance and then locally. I attended culinary school for two years. I tried to hold down jobs while doing all of this, with not a lot of success.
At that time, my mom lived an hour north of us. Depending on work or school schedules, we’d try to see each other once a week.
From the outside looking in, it was nothing but suburban success. Two story house, brand new deck, four cars in the driveway. At one point, we had G’s car, my car, his Corvette, and my dad’s old car.
I always felt that house owned me, I didn’t own the house. So much to clean, so much to maintain, inside and out. G traveled a lot then so I was by myself in that house a lot. I felt intimidated.
My mom helped a lot. She loved everything about having a house. In fact, she and her husband bought five acres of land and did everything to that property. They landscaped it, they had raised bed gardens, they had a pond dug and a windmill installed. They even stocked the pond.
They had ordered fish for the pond and the delivery was delayed. They were out of town for the rescheduled fish pickup so they asked me to do it. I will never forget driving to a gas station in Fenton, MI and meeting up with a fish man and his truck. He handed me a plastic bag filled with water and fish which I placed carefully in the backseat of my car. Imagine your ten-year old self with a plastic bag and one goldfish. Now imagine that times ten.
I drove back to their place, carried the bag to the pond and poured the fish into their new home. I remember thinking at the time, who am I? How is this happening?
When G and I had the opportunity to move to San Francisco, we took it. We didn’t know it at the time, but we were starting on a path of constant change. Between then and now, four more moves. Mom’s diagnosis and death and its aftermath. Covid. Any plans we had…gone.
We found our way back to a place that gives us peace. The place is now ours and we’re breathing easily now. Breathing in fact, instead of holding our breath.
There are no boxes stored in case we have to move again. Everything we own is here in front of us or neatly stored in the three closets.
We just celebrated our second Christmas here in Naples. We have two bedrooms and a screened-in lanai. The appliances are old and we’ll get around to replacing them. We have one slightly used car.
I do miss that purple chair. I miss my piano.
But I feel I have more now than I ever did.
I care about you. Please don’t forget to eat your greens.
LOVE LOVE LOVE
💕💕💕