ONE YEAR LATER: A PERSONAL UPDATE

It has been a year since I wrote my first blog post.

It was written in February, between Winter and Spring. And it felt like that at the time.  My life swung from dark, sad and cold to warm, content and hopeful, and back again.

A lot has changed.

This February I can look back on a year filled with great joy and happiness:  A daughter engaged, a grandchild born, and a home completed.

What have I learned?

That rebuilding your life is like renovating an old house.

It was not for nothing that I often used #metaphorforlife when posting pictures of the remodel. Like my house I had to strip my life down to its studs, saving what I could and what I liked and finding a way to fix, live with or throw out what wasn’t working.  At times it felt like progress was going at a snail’s pace, although looking back I can see how much was actually being done on the inside.  And, even once I moved into my new home and life, for a very long time I felt like I was living in a mud puddle and I would forever be traipsing mud up the steps and into the house.

Now I am living in a house that reflects me.  My colors, my furniture, my self expression.  I am meeting new people, exploring relationships (yes, dating) and reconnecting with old friends.  I have discovered that people don’t have to take sides. There is understanding and caring enough for both me and my ex-husband. I feel secure in the love of my family, my friends and myself.

I have learned that many things take longer to do by yourself than as part of a couple.  Among these are unpacking, decorating for Christmas and shoveling snow.  Some things need two people: hanging pictures, moving furniture, scratching an itch in the center of your back.  It’s okay to ask for help.

I have learned to put down whatever I am doing and to pay attention when someone wants to talk to me.  The computer will still be there, the person may not.  I have learned to show up, physically and emotionally.

I have learned that a grandchild is constant source of happiness and joy, that my daughter’s marriage is an occasion for hope and rejoicing and that I am lucky to have a child who wants to have dinner with me once a week and watch Top Chef.

I have learned to do what I like to do which includes writing and cooking and sharing it with my readers.

I have learned that it will be okay.

It’s been a long road to home.