I’m getting a facelift….
I am. Botox won’t work in this instance, and besides, as a naturopath, I don’t believe in putting harmful bacteria into my body. I don’t really like surgery either. However, after almost twenty years, something has to be done.
You see, we have lived in our home almost twenty years, and life has not always been easy. When we moved here, my children were in elementary school. My late husband died in this home, and I have spent the last ten years with my current spouse here. Wear and tear is evident.
We have decided to have a facelift. Now comes the hard part. Things have been boxed away, and furniture has been moved to the center of the rooms. I am currently waiting for the contractors to come and start to stipple the walls. Yes, the walls had stipple on them when we bought the house brand-new, but in one of my youthful schemes, I decided that I wanted wallpaper in my bedroom. I searched for the patterns that I liked, and worked for days to get it just right. We had to sand the walls to remove the stipple so that the paper would stick. I remember my babies helping me. Now, the paper is gone, being stripped by the Hubz while I was attending one of my many appointments.
The rooms looks much brighter. The paper is gone, and only the manilla colored backing paper reflects the light through the windows. Such a difference. Nothing is in its place. The curtains are down, the photos, memorabilia of my life tucked away in a different room so that the contractors have room to maneuver.
The love notes have been removed from the walls too. I treasure such keepsakes, and post them on the walls as a reminder that there were some days that I made a difference in my children’s lives. I have a hand colored drawing from my daughter that has graced my bathroom door for the last 18 years. Yes it is curled and faded, but her little 3rd grade handwriting reminds me of her ‘love and cared.’ I have four pages torn from a legal pad from the Hubz which are reminders that while we don’t always travel in the same circle, when he is gone, he leaves me notes to remind me he will miss me. I have removed the love notes from my son which were tacked to my mirror. Every day they remind me that mothering has life long benefits. All those treasures are packed away. I don’t want the contractors to have a glimpse into my heart, and I don’t want those treasured papers to be damaged in the ‘new do’.
I have removed all the treasures from the large window seat. Gifts from students, wedding tokens, photos and books. The room is sterile. Nothing to give any clues of the life that has been lived in that room for almost twenty years. It is disorienting. Though the bed is the same, and in the same placement, the headboard is gone. The night stand is gone. The telephone is gone. All removed so that the painters/stipplers can have free access to the walls. When I wake up, I don’t know where I am. As I reach to turn off the alarm, the glass of water crashes to the floor. Not a huge problem, but a reminder of things are not where they used to be.
Yes, we are getting a facelift. By Sunday, all the cracks, dents, smears, and smudges will have been wiped away. All the furniture will be placed in the proper places, (the permanent depressions in the carpet will be the map), and the tokens of my rich life may once again be on display. Maybe I will regain my orientation….
Until next time,