It's just before sunrise here in New Hampshire. My coffee is brewing, Lou is running around doing something suitably cat-like, I've got clothes drying in the dryer, and I'm psyching myself up to go and do the whole snow removal thing, with a housework chaser. Typical winter morning, decidedly normal-sounding, right? A lot of folks would be very happy to be in my boots right now.
What I'm doing first this morning, is looking out over the snowy landscape while critically re-examining a wish I thought I held for many years, for a normal, poetically pretty and positively Rockwell-ian New England home and existence. I'm finding that particular wish isn't quite working for me now, and honestly never really did, because this wish wasn't carefully considered for all of the possible consequences--mostly because the wish was made from my point of view back when I could not have possibly understood the ramifications and consequences of the wish.
I'd made the wish for 'home' when I was a little kid, before I truly understood the concept--during a stressful incident with my mother that never should have been allowed to go as far as it did. Perhaps my first lesson that something said in complete innocence can be heard as the complete opposite of what was actually said.
As a younger adult, I still didn't quite understand, because I'd never really had that knowledge of 'home' and just what it takes to be a successful homeowner, and the knowledge that the concepts are two entirely different things that I'd had no exposure to previously--I sure understand now!
This desire and ongoing expectation for a stable home for cat and I has not changed one iota, but forever chasing the image of a Rockwell-ian home and existence these past years has been a struggle, filled with fear, sadness, loss, loneliness, lessons learned through pain, and gallons of tears; definitely not the image evoked by a Rockwell painting!
It wasn't until this morning that I realized why my wish wasn't coming true, no matter how much effort I put into it (and there has been a LOT)-- it's because it wasn't so much the just-right fixer house itself falling into my lap, that I was wishing for, as it turns out. It was the whole concept of feeling safe and at home where I lived, and wanting to create that home.
I realized that what I needed to feel safe and at home in my own house, was a whole host of things I had never really before seriously/consciously considered, before realizing in flashes of insight that I could, in fact, actually have what I *really* wanted, instead of what I just _thought_ that I wanted, or that others would have wanted me to have for their own reasons.
The location for _my_ home exists, and the technology that I'd want to have exists now, or likely will soon, and that means I don't have to cobble together bits and pieces with tools, hardware, a prayer, or permission from an authority figurehead (or some combination) to make it happen. Well, ok. I wouldn't have to seek permission outside of a building permit, and I hope I get to talk to a building inspector that actually understands what I am wanting to do.
There have been some good things that have come out of my experience of home ownership thus far, such as a general toughening up (and I was pretty sturdy to start with), the receipt of the gift of confidence and an adoption of an 'I can do damn near anything' attitude, an education and a half on how to fix and remodel houses, the acquisition of some really great friends, kick-ass experiences, and positively exponential growth as a human being.
That said, I don't want to do another fixer-upper house unless the deal is either too good to pass up, or is such an easy remodel into what I wanted to build from scratch that it just makes sense to do the remodel. I've realized that I'm pretty much done with the band-aid approach to life, homeownership, and home repairs/remodelling, and while I can still admire the beauty and appeal of an older house, such things just don't resonate with me any more.
It is now of very little surprise to me that I have spent so much time in sussing out real estate ads, landscaping and gardening catalogues, furniture stores, and the architectural salvage places and not being able to find just the right blend. In my head, and in an outer reality of bits and pieces, I was trying to create a list of the things in the home that I really do want for myself, and not repeat the mistakes I've made already; in that moment of clarity, I found peace within myself, forgiveness for my errors and why I made them to begin with, as well as finding a direction to go in that I am certain of, where I will, at last, create 'home'.
I know that I am far from the only person in the world with my experience, and, it is my hope that this post saves someone some grief, and the mistakes that I made.
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