Waiting. We spend our lives waiting. We wait to have time to rest, we wait to have time to play, we wait to have time to travel, we wait for life to get better. Sometimes waiting overtakes a life lived.
Our dog Sophie, being a hound, can wait for long periods of time if she thinks her “prey” (usually a friend we know is coming for a visit). She was being a bit rambunctious so I sent her to go “Watch” for our architect and his wife. She knows their names so when I said them she was very happy. I felt sort of bad, they were traveling from a 150 miles away and I did not know exactly when they were going to get to the house, especially since the weather was bad. I misjudged the time and it was longer than I thought.
Nevertheless, she waited for them. She wanted to see them because she likes them. The pictures at the end of this post show her still waiting after 30 minutes. After that she got sleepy and took a nap but as soon as the car drove into the driveway she was wide awake looking for the architect and his spouse whom she loves.
We are waiting too. We are waiting to find our house but more than that to have a place that is settled and has places for us to truly be us.
After our architect came, after we had some tea, we spent time poring over plans. I got the scissors and cut out a wall and moved it over. Then I decided I needed to see what the sink would like look so I cut one of those out and put it on my paper wall. I still could not see it. We measured, we counted I listened and I tried but I could not get it. I was waiting for my brain to get brighter so I could understand it. Over and over I tried. When I could not understand the implications of moving the wall we looked to the floor above it and found an answer there. It all revolved around a chair. When we took the chair out of the equation, all was right with the world and nothing had to be changed. Moving the chair did not change anything either. It is a guest chair for occasional use. I did not understand because I did not understand what we wanted the space to do. Once I saw it drawn on paper, and my poor spouse calculated the numbers for me over and over I finally got it. We are fine, planning crisis averted.
Yet, there is simultaneously the crisis of not being in our home. There are times it is so powerful it can take your breath away. I was hand washing the glassware from a special dinner and I picked up several glasses and headed, without thinking, to put them away and then I realized I was looking at a door that went outside to the deck. It had nothing to do with glasses. It had something to do with glasses in our our old house, to the right of the sink was the cabinet for glasses, not a door to a deck. Crisis not averted. Tonight I feel the loss of my home and the loss of a part of me that has been burned and changed by the fire
As I contemplated what it has meant to live in this temporary home, it means that I am becoming something different than I was and I don’t want to be that something different. I want to be me. My home helps define me and for now, I am being defined by a home that is not mine. I am being defined by what is not me and my me is getting lost. I want to go home. Sophie and I will wait patiently together. I am glad she is a hound.
Sophie waiting. She waited for more than 30 minutes before deciding to take a nap so she would be extra ready when they came. It is great to be a hound!