I am immersed in "new" at the moment. After finalizing the paperwork on the new house in March, the wait until moving day was driving everyone nuts. While I was packing up and deconstructing everyone's rooms, it was difficult not to feel a little sentimental. It hit me hardest as I took my son's bed apart; it's the wooden twin-sized kind that is held together with large hex screws. Something about sitting on the floor of his room, surrounded by boxes, reminded me of when I had put the bed together.
A year and a half ago, I had brought over furniture from my ex-husband's home. I remember that even though the thought of putting that bed together was exhausting, I was relieved to have a place for my son to sleep when he was with me. I sat on that floor just thankful that I was out from underneath the stress of trying to make that relationship work.
The cabin was a place of my own. When we first moved in, the kids and I lit little sage sticks and "blessed" all of the windows and doors. None of us knew what we were doing, but it felt ceremonious-- what child doesn't like to carry around a half-lit sage stick?
It was a dump for sure, that place. But it was very convenient place to live for the children and for me. The cabin was even suitable for the dog. She had a fenced in area all of her own that I let become a little too much of a doggie litter box. The yard was sizable, unlike the countless stamped out communities with zero lot lines. I took decent care of it until my big surgery last year. Then it all went the way of weeds and dirt mounds.... and to be honest, I could never get the lawnmower to restart. From then on, everything went to hell.
"New" always feels good, whether it be a relationship or a job or a car. The problem becomes when you stop appreciating all of the things you liked about the thing when it was "new." I am very conscientious about what "new" is like in the moment because I don't want to lose that feeling.....inevitably we always do. This house, I'm sure, will feel "new" for quite some time to come; there have been little discoveries each day from the built-in lazy susan in the kitchen to the customizable closet systems in each room. One day it will all be less shiny, less of the "exactly what I wanted." It's in those moments that I go back in my mind's eye to what it felt like "new." I think we have that in relationships too, if we can muster it. My parents have been married for nearly fifty years, yet my father is very quick to say that he sees my mom as she was as a teenager. In his mind's eye, she is "new" or perhaps he just recalls what he appreciated about her then. It's important to keep that stuff alive somehow. Our nature is to acquire and then want something more. Really, it's okay to just enjoy the now and what it brings.
"New"is now - an adjustment in reality. A bigger house. More things to break and fix. More space to fill. It won't always feel that way, but I'll make a conscious effort to remember what this is like right now... and it's amazing.
