I moved into my permanent home on my 51st birthday a week ago Friday. Things are resolving with lightening speed these days. I have a permanent place to live, my land is completely cleared and almost ready to sell (one thing left to resolve), Larry's estate is almost settled, I've ultimately decided not to sue my former township. So things that were making my blood boil are 99 percent complete. Now we're down to petty annoyances because I'm still tired and grouchy from the ordeal of the fire and loosing both Larry and Montana. Most of my to do list was comprised of things that I had to do and not things I wanted to do but that is slowly shifting and changing. I sat in my new backyard with a cup of coffee this am and listened to the soft zee zee of cedar waxwings, watched a Carolina wren climb down my Rose of Sharon tree. Said hello to a pair of cardinals as they quickly landed on my fence, discovered me and moved on, listened to the sleepy chirp of crickets and neighbors going about their Saturday morning routine. Oakley barked and pointed at some squirrels performing acrobatics from the tall pine trees beyond my property and sniffed the air; happy to have a yard again.
Inside, the house has tons of character and all who see it say, "yes, this house feels like you". And so not only do I have my faithful companion of a dog to love, a dog who probably saved my sanity, but I have a new home to love and play house in, decorate and clean and cook.. This is the type of home where, with so many vestiges of the past, it just feels right to have bacon, eggs and toast for breakfast and iced tea in a earthenware pitcher and a pie to share when friends come.
Yes, there is finally a place to rest and recover.
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Sunday, July 14, 2013
The Moment
Anyone who has been through a big loss will relate to what I am about to say. There is a moment in time after a tragedy where you realize that things are going to be ok either because you have a day which was entirely good or because there is a moment where you laugh your ass off. I can say this because I've been through four tragedies. Today, that moment came.
I have been staying over at my newly purchased home more and more. It is not quite ready as I've needed a lot of repair work before I could get insurance (don't ask). Purchasing the house, clearing my land from the fire, the permits, the multiple phone calls...it's been grueling. My former township treats me like the anti-Christ so when a neighbor in my new neighborhood said she wanted to talk to me, I wondered what I had done wrong...turns out she wanted to invite me to her 89th birthday party. Mrs. Johnson or "Mother" Johnson or as I found out today, Catherine Precious Johnson is a petite African American woman with a love for plastic flowers, nicknacks, candy and all things Christian. Usually the party is held on my tiny one block street. Today it was catered at a hall. I was the first neighbor to arrive but soon found the other neighbors joining me as we made polite chit chat, listened to speakers profess their love for Mrs. Johnson and ate soul food.
The event was pretty much how someone summed it up for me, not exciting, not boring. That all changed on a dime when Mrs Johnson spoke about God granting her the wish to play piano. According to her, God had given her the ability through prayer alone. I thought it was cute when, with childlike enthusiasm and innocence, she asked if we wanted to hear her play. The sound that came out of those 89 year old hands was not to be believed. It was completely bizarre and dissonant, but Mrs. Johnson played us three songs with fervor while my future neighbors and I were not able to speak or look each other in the eye. This was straight out of Saturday Night Live. When finished, someone finally said to me, "Welcome to the neighborhood" where I had to further stifle my laughter.
As soon as I got out of the hall and into my car. I laughed for at least 10 minutes straight with tears streaming down my face and belly hurting.
Yes, I think things are going to get better from now on.
I have been staying over at my newly purchased home more and more. It is not quite ready as I've needed a lot of repair work before I could get insurance (don't ask). Purchasing the house, clearing my land from the fire, the permits, the multiple phone calls...it's been grueling. My former township treats me like the anti-Christ so when a neighbor in my new neighborhood said she wanted to talk to me, I wondered what I had done wrong...turns out she wanted to invite me to her 89th birthday party. Mrs. Johnson or "Mother" Johnson or as I found out today, Catherine Precious Johnson is a petite African American woman with a love for plastic flowers, nicknacks, candy and all things Christian. Usually the party is held on my tiny one block street. Today it was catered at a hall. I was the first neighbor to arrive but soon found the other neighbors joining me as we made polite chit chat, listened to speakers profess their love for Mrs. Johnson and ate soul food.
The event was pretty much how someone summed it up for me, not exciting, not boring. That all changed on a dime when Mrs Johnson spoke about God granting her the wish to play piano. According to her, God had given her the ability through prayer alone. I thought it was cute when, with childlike enthusiasm and innocence, she asked if we wanted to hear her play. The sound that came out of those 89 year old hands was not to be believed. It was completely bizarre and dissonant, but Mrs. Johnson played us three songs with fervor while my future neighbors and I were not able to speak or look each other in the eye. This was straight out of Saturday Night Live. When finished, someone finally said to me, "Welcome to the neighborhood" where I had to further stifle my laughter.
As soon as I got out of the hall and into my car. I laughed for at least 10 minutes straight with tears streaming down my face and belly hurting.
Yes, I think things are going to get better from now on.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Fast Lane
There was no movement for a long time and now, in a few short days after my last blog, life is speeding ahead in the fast lane for the better and I have a lot of gratitude.
I didn't anticipate that the fire would ruin my ability to get insurance. It stalled the purchase of a new home and at one point I backed out. But things (somewhat) worked out and closing is tomorrow. I say somewhat because the insurance I got is less than ideal and there is a contingency that I need to remove this outdated electrical system called knob and tube. I also need a significant amount of unanticipated work done to the house in order to get better insurance, but despite this dark cloud over the purchase, like a storm, it will pass. I will move in and give the home a lot of love. Oakley will have a yard again and a new dog friend-a one-eyed dog named Joline. The path we will take for morning and evening dog walks is a stunning view of the Delaware River on one side and historical homes on the other. I can walk into town or down to the river. None of these things could happen by in a condo or townhouse where there is no yard and pit bull mixes are not allowed.
Simultaneously, the people who own the building where I work at my afternoon job are locking the doors tomorrow so I am also moving my office today, unexpectedly. Found out two days ago. Although the new space is less than ideal, I am looking forward to the move for several reasons...mostly because I feel the building that I work in should be condemned. The roof leaks extensively and has ruined the floors and I smell mold everywhere. The rain has also caused the walls and ceiling to crumble over the past several years and recently, huge chunks of the ceiling have fallen. Yes, I actually work there and nobody but me seems to have an issue with the environmental problems that may be present.
In the new space, I've been given charge of what colors to paint the space. This is like giving me candy. I enjoy thinking about color much more than the average person. There will be life in the new space instead of going to a place where I feel completely drained by the surroundings alone.
So I am happier simply because there is movement in my life instead of the years of limbo I've been in. (I've known the television station was moving since I accepted the job four years ago.)
My dog Oakley got cast in a production of Oliver in Morrisville, PA. Our journey together has been wonderful. A really difficult dog, she has turned into a great pet because I took the time to try to understand her and I can't believe that she's trained well enough (and wants to please) that I can give her over to a stranger and say, "yep, she'll follow you and sit and stay for you."
It seems that Oliver needs a good singer for the adult chorus so I might be in the production as well. Auditioning Monday and am totally confident about it. And it doesn't matter so much to me if I get it or not, so no big deal. I never really saw myself doing community theater, but this might be fun.
Yes, I just might be having some fun soon.
I didn't anticipate that the fire would ruin my ability to get insurance. It stalled the purchase of a new home and at one point I backed out. But things (somewhat) worked out and closing is tomorrow. I say somewhat because the insurance I got is less than ideal and there is a contingency that I need to remove this outdated electrical system called knob and tube. I also need a significant amount of unanticipated work done to the house in order to get better insurance, but despite this dark cloud over the purchase, like a storm, it will pass. I will move in and give the home a lot of love. Oakley will have a yard again and a new dog friend-a one-eyed dog named Joline. The path we will take for morning and evening dog walks is a stunning view of the Delaware River on one side and historical homes on the other. I can walk into town or down to the river. None of these things could happen by in a condo or townhouse where there is no yard and pit bull mixes are not allowed.
Simultaneously, the people who own the building where I work at my afternoon job are locking the doors tomorrow so I am also moving my office today, unexpectedly. Found out two days ago. Although the new space is less than ideal, I am looking forward to the move for several reasons...mostly because I feel the building that I work in should be condemned. The roof leaks extensively and has ruined the floors and I smell mold everywhere. The rain has also caused the walls and ceiling to crumble over the past several years and recently, huge chunks of the ceiling have fallen. Yes, I actually work there and nobody but me seems to have an issue with the environmental problems that may be present.
In the new space, I've been given charge of what colors to paint the space. This is like giving me candy. I enjoy thinking about color much more than the average person. There will be life in the new space instead of going to a place where I feel completely drained by the surroundings alone.
So I am happier simply because there is movement in my life instead of the years of limbo I've been in. (I've known the television station was moving since I accepted the job four years ago.)
My dog Oakley got cast in a production of Oliver in Morrisville, PA. Our journey together has been wonderful. A really difficult dog, she has turned into a great pet because I took the time to try to understand her and I can't believe that she's trained well enough (and wants to please) that I can give her over to a stranger and say, "yep, she'll follow you and sit and stay for you."
It seems that Oliver needs a good singer for the adult chorus so I might be in the production as well. Auditioning Monday and am totally confident about it. And it doesn't matter so much to me if I get it or not, so no big deal. I never really saw myself doing community theater, but this might be fun.
Yes, I just might be having some fun soon.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Feeling small
I've been really feeling the grief over the last couple of days. Larry and I were such outdoor people and I looked forward to kicking back Friday night on our deck (which Larry built) watching fireflies over a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. Now, I tend to work. I am hoping to work less and start to cook more and get out into nature more so the nerd in me can identify dragonflies and moths and other flying things...but most of all sing more--three things I know that I love. All of my single friends will agree that there is something lonely about the weekends.
I met up with the three other members of my grief group last week. We're all young, but I'm the baby. One woman mentioned that she felt the vulnerability of a five year old after her husband's death and as if she were just going through the motions of living. I think with the death and the fire I would say I feel three years old. Some days I just feel so raw and vulnerable and small that I want to curl up in ball and never go outside. I feel safe with the only thing left...my dog, who comes running and licks my face whenever I start crying and curls up next to me.
There have been such peculiar situations surrounding my purchase of a house and clean up of the land where my former house stood that I am wiped out physically, emotionally, financially. The sale of the house was on again off again for days due to my inability to get insurance; something I never thought about after the fire. I had to emotionally detach from the situation. I close on Friday but I needed to stop caring about whether or not I got this house in order to just get through it. Looks like it is now happening, but it is hard to be enthusiastic. I hope that I get more enthusiastic as time goes on. It will be nice to open the back door to let Oakley out instead of needing to walk her the minute I get up because my back yard is a parking lot.
The rug still feels like it has been pulled out from under me and I wonder how long it will take to feel normal again. I felt stronger than I anticipated after Larry passed and shocked at how the aftermath of the fire has left me reeling. Most people feel my strength, but it would be helpful to hear just what people are seeing...is that just something people say just to be polite?
I met up with the three other members of my grief group last week. We're all young, but I'm the baby. One woman mentioned that she felt the vulnerability of a five year old after her husband's death and as if she were just going through the motions of living. I think with the death and the fire I would say I feel three years old. Some days I just feel so raw and vulnerable and small that I want to curl up in ball and never go outside. I feel safe with the only thing left...my dog, who comes running and licks my face whenever I start crying and curls up next to me.
There have been such peculiar situations surrounding my purchase of a house and clean up of the land where my former house stood that I am wiped out physically, emotionally, financially. The sale of the house was on again off again for days due to my inability to get insurance; something I never thought about after the fire. I had to emotionally detach from the situation. I close on Friday but I needed to stop caring about whether or not I got this house in order to just get through it. Looks like it is now happening, but it is hard to be enthusiastic. I hope that I get more enthusiastic as time goes on. It will be nice to open the back door to let Oakley out instead of needing to walk her the minute I get up because my back yard is a parking lot.
The rug still feels like it has been pulled out from under me and I wonder how long it will take to feel normal again. I felt stronger than I anticipated after Larry passed and shocked at how the aftermath of the fire has left me reeling. Most people feel my strength, but it would be helpful to hear just what people are seeing...is that just something people say just to be polite?
Thursday, June 6, 2013
Complications and Selfish Bitches
I have needed to keep publicly silent for a LONG time for reasons I can't go into and it has not felt good. Thing have shifted, I've taken action that I needed time to reflect on and it feels safe to post a blog entry again. I know...cryptic, right? Sorry.
I feel extremely misunderstood by people lately. Yesterday, a friend of Larry's called me a selfish bitch. Part of me is insulted, another part delighted to know that all vestiges of a teenager and young adult who was extremely meek and mild is gone. Lots of people are upset with me right now and it's hard to hold. What is it about humans that we want to be understood. If I could give that up, I could have more peace around it. Is everyone happy with our role models?...of course not. They were pioneers and risk takers and brave and that's why we love them. The are human and flawed and critiqued and that's ok. So, selfish bitch? I'm ok with it.
It shocks me that almost six months post fire, I do not feel at peace. The more people question and doubt my actions, the more I feel scared, like a cornered animal wanting to lash out. I cannot believe the difference in stress level between Larry's death and the fire. The fire has been far more difficult and more complex to deal with. I still struggle with days where it feels like it would be easier if I didn't exist. And I know that if I just wait long enough, things will get better. There is an intensity and immediacy to things right now.
So let me just share with you one particular situation that I CAN go into detail about. I am at the tail end of purchasing a home--a home that I really love in the kind of town I'd like to be in. I've been dropped from my insurance policy basically because the fire cost them too much. So now I'm on some kind of insurance blacklist and many phone calls and tears later, finally found a company willing to insure me. But because I'm purchasing a historical home, the stipulations for getting the insurance get complicated and they propose is a situation where they will tell me what repairs I have to make and I have 30 days to make them which leaves me wondering how much money I will need to spend in that 30 days...$200 or $200,000? It's a crap shoot. Everything, I'm sure, will work out the way it is supposed to, but this is one of several insane situations resulting from the fire.
So please heed my cautionary tale. Douse all fires, take your fire pits (I would never have one) and chimenias and make sure they are not even remotely in an area where embers could spread. Unplug your appliances after use including toasters. Do not place grills next to wooden fences (that's where the sellers of my house have their grill which I will move within one hour of occupancy if I get the house). Call in the fire department now and ask what part you can take in fire prevention. Your life after a fire will be hell for a while and if your fire affected your neighbors the way mine did, you will feel guilt believe me, regardless of whose fault it was. I would never in a million years believe that life after a fire would be far worse than loosing a spouse, after all, a fire is just stuff, but that's the way it's been for me. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.
I feel extremely misunderstood by people lately. Yesterday, a friend of Larry's called me a selfish bitch. Part of me is insulted, another part delighted to know that all vestiges of a teenager and young adult who was extremely meek and mild is gone. Lots of people are upset with me right now and it's hard to hold. What is it about humans that we want to be understood. If I could give that up, I could have more peace around it. Is everyone happy with our role models?...of course not. They were pioneers and risk takers and brave and that's why we love them. The are human and flawed and critiqued and that's ok. So, selfish bitch? I'm ok with it.
It shocks me that almost six months post fire, I do not feel at peace. The more people question and doubt my actions, the more I feel scared, like a cornered animal wanting to lash out. I cannot believe the difference in stress level between Larry's death and the fire. The fire has been far more difficult and more complex to deal with. I still struggle with days where it feels like it would be easier if I didn't exist. And I know that if I just wait long enough, things will get better. There is an intensity and immediacy to things right now.
So let me just share with you one particular situation that I CAN go into detail about. I am at the tail end of purchasing a home--a home that I really love in the kind of town I'd like to be in. I've been dropped from my insurance policy basically because the fire cost them too much. So now I'm on some kind of insurance blacklist and many phone calls and tears later, finally found a company willing to insure me. But because I'm purchasing a historical home, the stipulations for getting the insurance get complicated and they propose is a situation where they will tell me what repairs I have to make and I have 30 days to make them which leaves me wondering how much money I will need to spend in that 30 days...$200 or $200,000? It's a crap shoot. Everything, I'm sure, will work out the way it is supposed to, but this is one of several insane situations resulting from the fire.
So please heed my cautionary tale. Douse all fires, take your fire pits (I would never have one) and chimenias and make sure they are not even remotely in an area where embers could spread. Unplug your appliances after use including toasters. Do not place grills next to wooden fences (that's where the sellers of my house have their grill which I will move within one hour of occupancy if I get the house). Call in the fire department now and ask what part you can take in fire prevention. Your life after a fire will be hell for a while and if your fire affected your neighbors the way mine did, you will feel guilt believe me, regardless of whose fault it was. I would never in a million years believe that life after a fire would be far worse than loosing a spouse, after all, a fire is just stuff, but that's the way it's been for me. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
Remedies
My doctor gave me an Rx for a forced vacation and it did me a world of good. I was drowning in work. I lost hours of client work from the fire that I had to recreate. I have to recreate a paper trail of my life, passport and past taxes, etc. I have had new client work. Because I'm now in a condo and can't let Oakley out the back door, I have a small challenge of finding a dogwalker if I have to work late or want to go out. So due to my daily grind extreme I lost the will to live for a little while. I've remedied this with the forced vacation and hired a good assistant temporarily. But life has handed me other remedies.
I can't even tell you how excited I am to move to a new home in this quirky, historic town where there are no sad memories of Larry. Yesterday, I got through a critical step of the home buying process. I had to hire a geophysicist to take sonar pictures of the ground to search for an oil tank. Luckily for all, there is no sign of an oil tank ever having been on the property. I joked to my assistant that the geophysicist would find the hidden treasure and that I could split it with the owners. I can't help but wish for a Disney ending and I know someone in France who found medieval coins while renovating their home and they were able to retire. The geophysicist did find an old bottle so God had a little fun with me and my treasure fantasy.
Speaking of France, when Larry died, I asked myself what would make me happy again. Memories of vacations to France visiting my college friends Christine and Thierry are magical. My next vacation to France is booked for September. Christine and Thierry are picking me up from the airport.
There's a whole lot to look forward to and it has shifted in just the past few weeks. Now that I am through all of the milestones of Larry's birthday and holidays and his passing, I feel lighter and I value the time that we were partnered, but I'd like to trade the sad memories for happy memories of Larry, his generosity, how fun he was. My load is finally a little lighter but I won't refuse the Disney ending should it come along.
I can't even tell you how excited I am to move to a new home in this quirky, historic town where there are no sad memories of Larry. Yesterday, I got through a critical step of the home buying process. I had to hire a geophysicist to take sonar pictures of the ground to search for an oil tank. Luckily for all, there is no sign of an oil tank ever having been on the property. I joked to my assistant that the geophysicist would find the hidden treasure and that I could split it with the owners. I can't help but wish for a Disney ending and I know someone in France who found medieval coins while renovating their home and they were able to retire. The geophysicist did find an old bottle so God had a little fun with me and my treasure fantasy.
Speaking of France, when Larry died, I asked myself what would make me happy again. Memories of vacations to France visiting my college friends Christine and Thierry are magical. My next vacation to France is booked for September. Christine and Thierry are picking me up from the airport.
There's a whole lot to look forward to and it has shifted in just the past few weeks. Now that I am through all of the milestones of Larry's birthday and holidays and his passing, I feel lighter and I value the time that we were partnered, but I'd like to trade the sad memories for happy memories of Larry, his generosity, how fun he was. My load is finally a little lighter but I won't refuse the Disney ending should it come along.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
At last, a vision for the future.
Truth be told, I continue to be pretty sad and overwhelmed. Luckily, a random visit to my physician ended up in a prescription for two weeks off. I already feel less overwhelmed just two days in. I've been dealing with overwhelm by indulging in wine and cheese parties for one resulting in a whopping weight gain. I now don't fit into most of my donated clothes post fire. What makes me angry with myself is that THIS is something I can control.... but I choose not to.
On a more positive note, I've been back to my former neighborhood quite a bit and the more I go back, the more I accept that even if it were possible to rebuild, it makes me sad to go back. There is just a heaviness of painful memories. There is a whole lot of loss wrapped up in that empty lot. Which leads me to some good news...I've put a bid in on a house. I've seen 20-30 houses and I've only been enthusiastic about two. One was a little rich for my pocketbook and when Larry passed (it will be a year this week) I was well aware of what life was like putting all of your paycheck into bills. I didn't want to recreate that "all work and no play" existence.
Bordentown is a lovely and somewhat funky town with lots of history and Ocean Spray headquarters. Since I love historical homes, I put a bid in on a Philadelphia style row home from 1820. It has original floors in the living room and is just enough house for me. The rooms are tiny, but it also won't cost a lot to decorate them. The backyard feels very cottage-like and the yard is small enough that all I would need is an old-fashioned hand mower. At least I won't be spending five hours per week on my former yard. This house is walking distance to a beautiful riverside park and two blocks from a thriving downtown. I wanted to live in Lambertville, but this is the next best thing. Lambertville is next to the Delaware River too, but it floods. Bordentown is on a bluff 400 feet above sea level. The riverside park is along this bluff and it's about 30 seconds by foot from my potential future home.
Of course, I'm assuming that I'm going to get the house. I think I would be kind of devastated if I didn't since in my mind, I've moved in with Oakley and my future doggie Joline. Oakley really needs to focus on another dog and she really enjoyed her role as big sister.
Joline is a dog I've been helping out at a shelter. She's trouble. I tend to pick dogs with big problems. Luckily having had no children, I have the time and energy to rehab troubled dogs and I LOVE it. I feel very happy to help dogs overcome their past and it's one way I try to give back to this thing called life.
So finally, I have a future that I can envision and that is helping the depression, even if it does not come to pass. The home and Joline might not happen, but I sure hope they do.
On a more positive note, I've been back to my former neighborhood quite a bit and the more I go back, the more I accept that even if it were possible to rebuild, it makes me sad to go back. There is just a heaviness of painful memories. There is a whole lot of loss wrapped up in that empty lot. Which leads me to some good news...I've put a bid in on a house. I've seen 20-30 houses and I've only been enthusiastic about two. One was a little rich for my pocketbook and when Larry passed (it will be a year this week) I was well aware of what life was like putting all of your paycheck into bills. I didn't want to recreate that "all work and no play" existence.
Bordentown is a lovely and somewhat funky town with lots of history and Ocean Spray headquarters. Since I love historical homes, I put a bid in on a Philadelphia style row home from 1820. It has original floors in the living room and is just enough house for me. The rooms are tiny, but it also won't cost a lot to decorate them. The backyard feels very cottage-like and the yard is small enough that all I would need is an old-fashioned hand mower. At least I won't be spending five hours per week on my former yard. This house is walking distance to a beautiful riverside park and two blocks from a thriving downtown. I wanted to live in Lambertville, but this is the next best thing. Lambertville is next to the Delaware River too, but it floods. Bordentown is on a bluff 400 feet above sea level. The riverside park is along this bluff and it's about 30 seconds by foot from my potential future home.
Of course, I'm assuming that I'm going to get the house. I think I would be kind of devastated if I didn't since in my mind, I've moved in with Oakley and my future doggie Joline. Oakley really needs to focus on another dog and she really enjoyed her role as big sister.
Joline is a dog I've been helping out at a shelter. She's trouble. I tend to pick dogs with big problems. Luckily having had no children, I have the time and energy to rehab troubled dogs and I LOVE it. I feel very happy to help dogs overcome their past and it's one way I try to give back to this thing called life.
So finally, I have a future that I can envision and that is helping the depression, even if it does not come to pass. The home and Joline might not happen, but I sure hope they do.
 |
| future Joline- yes, she only has one eye. Maybe she can wear a patch, like a pirate. |
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