RENOVATION TIME
And out with the old and in with the new.
Buying and remodeling our first house together tested us in many ways.
Spoiler alert—we survived it!
The planning phase can be the most difficult, especially when half the team (me) likes to talk out every detail, and the other half of the team (my husband), although he has an opinion about everything … down to the color of the grout in the countertop … likes talking about details about as much as getting a root canal.
We bought our first house over twenty years ago. We took the advice of real estate experts and bought a fixer upper in the best neighborhood we could afford. Armed with how-to books and videos by Bob Vila, we moved our young family into an old house and made it our own. I’m sure we had arguments, but I don’t remember them now. What I do remember is working together to remove the old shag carpet and wood grain paneling and make each room new with paint and fixtures.
Out with the old and in with the new.
Everyone has heard that old saying, which I find easy to embrace in the literal sense—like when an old carpet needs replacing. However, I’m struggling with it in the philosophical sense. The idea of letting go of an old thing with the expectation of something new, now that the “old” are the traditions and routines that I’m clinging to, most of which don’t make sense now that the kids have left the nest.
George Bernard Shaw said, “Those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.” And Jim Rhon, the motivational speaker and author, said, “Your life does not get better by chance; it gets better by change.” Thanks, guys, for the reminder. And it’s another guy, Milton—Hurricane Milton that is—that has forced us to change.
I’ve been kicking that can down the lane, hemming and hawing, making excuses, and telling everyone I know how hard it is to change, and then a hurricane wreaked havoc on our house. In a full circle kind of way, we are once again renovating our house. Twenty years later, our family has changed, which should have been the force for a transformation, but the truth is, I just didn’t want to. I wanted things to stay as they were.
Was it a fear of the unknown? Maybe. Was it the uncertainty of what my new purpose was? Absolutely. I think it may also be something else: grief. This is a hard one for me because I’m not an emotional person. I’m practical, rational, pragmatic, and realistic. But when I go down the list of the stages of grief identified by Dr. Kubler-Ross … denial—check, anger—check, bargaining—check, depression—check, acceptance—still a work in progress.
When the kids left, I told myself they would be back—denial. When they settled on opposite sides of the country, I was angry and began bargaining with them to move closer to home. When it became clear they were not considering that suggestion, I had feelings of emptiness and a lack of motivation—the classic signs of depression. It’s hard to look at how I have processed this and not see the similarities.
The last stage, acceptance, is still a work in progress. My rational side knows it, but my emotional side isn’t quite ready to throw in the towel. That’s my tenacious personality talking. I’ve never been a quitter.
Recently, there has been discussion of a sixth stage of grief—meaning. The discussion centers on finding meaning as a form of closure and transforming sadness into a hopeful experience. I like that.
It’s renovation time.
