Um. Yeah. There may be questionable substances in the bathroom. The bathroom that I've spent a lot of hours in painting. Alone. With the door closed. Just maybe. I DO NOT NEED HELP IN THE CARCINOGENIC DEPARTMENT, GOD. Perhaps now the lung cancer can get to me before the breast cancer does.
It's Friday. Obviously this means that I am a.) exhausted, b.) paint-splattered, c.) ready to kill someone or in tears and you are a.) getting sick of this and b.) going to hear about it anyways.
But ha! I'm not crying this time! So, there. It was a good day. The dining room is finished and white, we picked out flooring and have it strategically set to be installed around various surgical issues (because that adds a whole new level of fun to the whole endeavour), and the counter and sink have been installed.
Oh, the counter top. The counter top is beautiful. I love it. It makes my love for the cabinet doors (there are pictures on Facebook) seem like a passing fancy. But I think the thing that I love most about the counter top is that putting it in didn't change anything. Since August, we've been systematically erasing my grandparents' imprint on their house. This is incredibly difficult, and the kitchen is the first room that's kind of close to being done, and I was thrilled to realize today that when I stood in there I felt the same as I always have. I mean, yes, the color is better and the light fixtures are pretty and modern, and we all know how I feel about the Corian, but everything still feels the same.
Nothing will ever change the memories I have of spending countless days there growing up. Nothing will makes me forget that this was the kitchen where there was a "I love my grandma and grandpa" on the fridge that "I" gave them at my first Halloween (I was a pumpkin. It was damn cute.) I can still remember sitting there the morning my grandmother died. I remember being really squished because there wasn't a whole lot of room for all ten of us plus I think a priest, I don't know. In May I made Grandpa broth and jello in that kitchen after a doctor's appointment because he was still high from something they had given him. (I didn't make the Jello correctly. Shocking, I know.) In July, I stood there at the fridge and helped him clean it out, because we figured some stuff was going to spoil. But I told him to leave most of it, because he would be back within a week or two. He never got back. On July 24th Steven and I went down around ten o'clock to bring back the radio from the kitchen table- it was tuned to a specific station, and God knows that we could not retune the radio that was already at Mickey's, we needed this one. And on July 25th I stood in there and cried harder than I had all day.
Not all of those memories are good; in fact, most of them are damn depressing. But they're a huge part of my life, and I am so thankful that they haven't been erased.
I wouldn't change it for the world.
2 comments:
even in a touching blog such as this....mickey comes off looking a bit nasty!!!! not so sure i am liking this....but i am so glad you like the couner top:):):)
Today was one of those days...yes, so much was accomplished and the new counter is beautiful but when I was sitting home alone later on I just had to call Grandpa's phone to hear his voice and then cry awhile again...changing everything is so hard but you are right, the memories are still there and even with all of the sad things that I have felt in that house, it is still the beautiful happy memories that give me such a peaceful feeling when I am just sitting there by myself looking out of the window - I will always feel their peaceful comfort there....and, by the way, I think they would both just love the way the kitchen lookes even though Grandma never would have picked a black counter and Grandpa would not have thought the price was worth forgoing formica:)!!! And, just an aside, I do not see at all where mickey thinks she comes off looking at all nasty - I must call her to find out??!!
Post a Comment