Those are the directions on the housewarming gift I’m leaving for Brock this morning. In a few hours we close on the new house. Needless to say, there hasn’t been much sleeping ’round these parts the last few nights.
I’m excited. So damn excited. I’m starting to let myself believe that this is actually going to happen. We received pictures of the repairs on the screened in porch from the seller yesterday. Hard to believe that I could be on that porch soon.
I’m anxious. There is still so much that can go wrong. I don’t want to count the proverbial chickens. Or any real ones, for that matter.
I’m left out. Since the note is in his name only (thanks to the parting gift of a foreclosure from my ex), he will be attending the proceedings this morning without me (I’m using my personal days for the wedding this year). It’s a strange feeling. It’s “our” house, yet in some very real ways, it’s not mine. I’m still trying to be okay with that.
After the chaos and lack of anchorage the past four years, this house means stability. Roots. Safety. I can finally unpack. Not just boxes, but my life. In some ways, I’ve been in storage waiting for the right time.
Now is the right time.
So, in a few hours, during which I’ll be teaching similar figures while dressed in a Superman shirt (it’s superhero day at school), Brock will be signing papers that close on a house and open a new chapter in our lives. May this home and this chapter be filled with lots of love, laughter and friends. And no chickens.