A curious thing happened this past Sunday. I’m not quite sure how to describe it, but here goes:
I’ve wanted a wood shop for many years, but we’ve never been in a position to afford one. In September, 2010, we lived about 100 miles from our daughter, Allison and her husband, who were renting from us the house she grew up in since high school. We decided to purchase a house closer to the kids as we knew they were wanting to start a family.
When we moved into our present house in early December, 2010, it came equipped with a detached garage that could be converted into the shop of my dreams and I couldn’t wait to get started. As Christmas approached, we became busy with all things attendant to the holidays, so the shop was put on the back burner. On 29 December, Allison passed away, and I lost all interest in the shop.
This past Sunday I decided to go out there and clean it up a bit. I hadn’t been out there in quite some time, so it was pretty dirty. I managed to get the floor swept and rearrange a few things to get it a little closer to what I wanted it to be.
I noticed “it” after I started cleaning out the shop.
Just like I had decided to head back out to the shop to attend to it, Cindy, my wife, started cleaning up her new glass “studio” in the house. Neither of us had said anything to each other about our plans for that day, but it was almost as if God had told each of us that it was time to get back to doing the things we each enjoyed doing, or at least preparing the spaces where our hobbies took place. It was a very cool moment for me when I realized that both of us were starting to “come back to life” so to speak.
It was after that little epiphany that I decided to take out my golf clubs and hit a few balls in the backyard…forget the shop, just stop and smell the roses. I have some special golf balls that are not quite like whiffle balls, but are supposed to allow you to hit the balls with close to a real swing without sending it into the neighbors yard four houses down. I spent the next couple of hours chipping balls on the newly mowed grass and just generally enjoying a typical lazy Sunday afternoon. I haven’t done that for quite some time.
All in all, it was a good, very good Sunday, and while I can’t say I don’t have worries, I can say I don’t feel as stressed as I had prior to that day. Allison’s husband has decided he can no longer live in the house Allison died in, so we’ve put that house on the market. Now we wait and see what happens. In the meantime, I’ll continue with trying to get my shop into shape, Cindy will continue with her stained glass projects, and we’ll both generally live life as it comes, but without a certain stress factor I can’t describe.
The above was sent to me by Mr. John Wolfe, I friend and fellow grieving dad.