Despite the mixed sleet and rain that fell all day, the farm house made another leap forward yesterday. When I drove in after work I found the porch roof is going up!
I got out of my car and walked the porch deck in wonderment, filled with emotion. I have dreamed of this porch for years and years.
I realized long ago that there will never be anyone who will share my excitement over this land and this house to the degree I feel it. Allen came closest, with the land. We struggled together though snowstorms and rain and wind to clear every inch. We constantly plotted and schemed to squeeze the last nickel to get things done. “Y’know what we need —” he once said in the early days, and then caught himself in embarrassment at saying “we.” (It wasn’t his land.)
I had hugged him. I loved being part of a “we.”
With the house, however, I’m on my own. My parents would be happy for me, but Dad has been gone nearly thirty years and Mom thirteen. DH is pleased that I am happy, but his interest is zero. My children — I hope they will learn to love it. I hope we will have years of happy memories. But they are grown, with their own dreams, and can’t really imagine my lifetime of dreaming and yearning for this home.
As I walked on the deck, my heart bursting, I wondered who it was I wished I could share it with. Finally I realized it was my younger self.
Hang on, I want to tell her. Some day it will all come true.
My eyes regularly fill with tears of amazement and joy.