I had quite forgotten this feeling. A welcome sense of emptiness. We often forget that emptiness can be healing; like looking at an empty canvas, a blank page just waiting for something to be written--or in my case, an empty house.
Empty of people. Empty of chaos. How can something so empty be . . . full of potential?
After six years of sharing the same space with--eventually--5 other individuals, empty was amazing. Empty was damn near euphoric.
On the second of my two monitors is an old picture as it's desktop. By old, I just mean as old as my 5 year old son--taken approximately 5 years ago. It is one of my favorites. New parents hold their newborn--maybe 3 months old--while laying on a blue blanket. The child is wearing a bright yellow onesie, a bright green frog in the middle. A matching yellow hat adorns the baby's head--small green frog emroidered on the front but the best part of the baby's attire is the white gloves--the kind that hinders a baby's ability to scratch their face--with small green frogs on them. I always loved those little mittens.
The parent's look well rested--I assure they're not--and happy. I don't remember if my husband and I had fought that day although it was likely. His blue eyes were as bright as the blue blanket we were laying upon and reminded me of what the reasons I fell in love with him. I appreciate that my hair was colored a particularly pretty autumn auburn shade rather than the blue it had been just a few months prior. It would have been too much blue for one photo.
At the time of the photo, we had been living with my in-laws for roughly 10 months judging by the age of my son. I did not know how long it would take to get back on our feet.
The year 2020 was tragic for the whole world--for many reasons--but for us, it was a good year. We were both promoted, became pregnant with our second child and bought a house. Coincidentally, we had our baby daughter and moved within a 2 weeks of each other.
We went from all of our belongings being held within a single room to an entire, split level house. Even after nearly 2 months of living here, I'm still metaphorically brought to my knees every time I allow myself a few moments to embrace the emptiness of my new home.
Yes it's full of noise and chaos--how could it not with 2 children! But it's my chaos. It's my noise. And empty of anyone else's. It's empty of any judgment. It's empty of any expectation. I can shut my door to the world and live solely for myself and my family. Although I have not allow myself to use that rite--it's enough to know I could.
With the help of a friend, we painted the largest part of the upstairs last weekend. It took a long time but the end result was more than I could have imagined. Today we have hung the curtains and some of the art I want on my walls. It's already started to look and feel like the home I'd always wanted.
I surprised myself by picking colors much more muted than I'd ever give myself credit for. I wanted the loudest house on the block. Bright oranges and jungle greens; every room would have it's own theme and it would all clash together like an explosion of all the artists from the previous centuries but alas . . . I went with "Peaceful Blue" throughout the house. A calming, but bright, sky blue. And I am happy.
My space.
It's been so long since I've had my own space. My space. It doesn't roll off the tongue as easy as it once did back in the apartment but I know it soon will.
I wonder if this feeling ever goes away. Will I ever walk into my house and . . . take it for granted? I hope not. My goal is to live cautiously enough to know that I've worked hard to earn what I've got. Going into my Junior year of high school, I once found a Dilbert Comic Strip that motivated me to kick ass and finish high school on time--I was slated to be a Super Senior if I didn't put in massive hours to catch up on credits.
