Gratitude

I will not blow smoke where smoke has no business being, and lie and say that home dwellership has been nothing but rosy.  I'll respect myself, and all of you enough to tell the truth.  I'm not saying that it's been awful.  But there have been a few...challenges. 

One of the biggest challenges so far has been actually believing that this is now my house.  I'm living in my Grandparent's house; a house that I practically grew up in.  I was here all the time.  And no matter how many changes I make to the house, no matter how long I live here, this will always be their house.  There are a multitude of little things that keep happening that make me revert back to my childhood.  I'll be cooking, and need to throw something away, and without thinking, I'll head toward the kitchen sink, because they always kept the trash can underneath the kitchen sink.  Never mind the fact that the one I put in the kitchen is on the opposite side of the room, and I've used it countless times in the past week.  Or reaching toward the wall where the TP holder always used to be, never mind the fact that you have to reach past the current TP stand to get to the wall.  Still happens.  All the time.

Without even considering that another drawer might be more suitable, I went ahead and put the silverware in the same drawer my Grandma kept hers.  I knew that no matter what, I'd always reach for that drawer to get the silverware out, so I might as well give myself a break and leave it there.  Best decision - ever.

And every morning, when I walk out of my bedroom, I glance into the living room.  And see the light on.  And every morning, I picture my Grandpa, sitting in his chair.  Reading.  As I saw him do countless times.  I miss them so much.  And can't believe that they have been gone for 10 years.  But I am so happy to be living here.

I'm going to take a side step, and tell you a little story.  About my house.  And calling this my house.  Like I said before, part of me will always see this as their house.  But it's starting to really feel like home.  But something happened before I even arrived in IL that made me feel at home here.  One of the absolutely amazing ladies who came to clean my house - who had known my Grandparents from way back when, had been to this house countless times - got a little choked up when she first walked in the day they cleaned.  But when she told me about this, she called this MY house.  That one, single, comment made me feel more at home than almost anything else.  

I'm pretty sure that in the past 2 weeks, I have worked harder - physically harder - than I have in years.  Day in, day out.  All day long.  And I say this having trained for an Ironman.  It has not been easy.  But the thing I come back to is I could not be more grateful to be here.  I am grateful that I have so much storage space to keep all of my things.  I am grateful that I can finally relieve my parents of the space my stuff was taking up in their garage.  I am grateful that I can go to bed every night, and be tired.  There hasn't been a night that I have had a hard time falling asleep. 

And beyond that - I haven't been alone through it all.  My parents have been amazing throughout the entire process.  And though my mother may feel some guilt that she's not able to help enough.  Trust me, my house would not look as good as it does without her.  She has gone completely above and beyond with helping clean.  And when it came to doing stuff that she can't physically do herself, she immediately went into drill sergeant mode, and directed my dad and I to clean up the patio, so it was much more orderly.  Quite frankly, I think all dad and I really wanted to do was take a shower, and watch some TV, but there was no way she was leaving my house until the patio was organized.  And you know what, I was grateful she made that happen.  Who knows how long I could have walked around the table that sits out there (that had been in the middle of the floor) without her.

And of course, things never work out the way things are supposed to.  I've been cleaning EVERYTHING I own since I've been here.  All dishes have been washed.  All clothes are being washed (in my mother's washer and dryer because I don't currently own one - I am grateful that I at least have her house, and laundry room close enough instead of needing to go to a laundromat).  And it's been a task in and of itself cleaning everything.  And there is still a long way to go.  But I was at least able to get the house clean enough (it helped that I gave myself a deadline I couldn't avoid) to have my family over for Easter.  Yes, I've lived here less than a week, and I've already hosted a holiday dinner.  And, of course, the dishwasher decides to stop working the day before.  So not only do I cook dinner for everyone.  I also get to do ALL of the dishes.  By hand. 

I could easily grumble and gripe about the challenges that that brought on.  Or needing to spend more time washing dishes yesterday than I had planned on, which eventually took more time away from the family.  Things could easily go that way.  But instead, through it all, the word that kept rolling through my head is gratitude.  At least I have a dishwasher that can be broken.  At least I have family close enough, and willing enough, to spend holiday's with me.  At least I'm used to washing dishes by hand, so it really wasn't that hard to take care of.  At least I have family that was willing to pitch in and help out with those dishes.  I am so grateful for all of these things.  Life is VERY good.