THE STRESS BEHIND THE ADDRESS

Do you feel the anxiety watching this video?

In the weeks preceding our move-in day, we were living out of suitcases at a local hotel so we could be here to help Keenan into college. In that time we also finalized moving plans. Although living out of a suitcase isn’t ideal, we were able to visit with some friends and visit some of the places we enjoyed before we moved away over a year ago.

Day trip to Longwood gardens where Dan proposed and we where we continue to find peace.

It’s a very strange feeling to move back to an area that is so familiar and feels like home, yet has changed in ways that can feel foreign too. I think I underestimated the challenge of reacclimating to the Northeast in the same way I underestimated adjusting to life in Florida for over a year. Pennsylvania has been my home for 50+ years, minus the 4 years I lived in Georgia while in the military and the 1 year we lived in Florida. Dan is from the Midwest but has moved frequently throughout his life and career, and he always said he could enjoy living almost anywhere. Even though we have lived in other great places, PA is where we built our life and family.

However, we quickly noticed that we felt strange and unsettled. Understandably so, since moving can be exciting, but its cumulative stress impact can be much greater than it looks on paper.

Boxed In

Boards protect the windows and somewhat block my vision of the amount of stuff we need to go through.

In the spring of 2021, we started to prepare for downsizing when our youngest was a senior in high school. The amount of stuff we accumulated through the years as a family of seven was staggering. The amount of art supplies, paper, and athletic equipment could support a small school. Four teenage girls and their clothes alone could supply an entire thrift store (not to mention my own closet of shoes, purses, and clothing items that I want to fit into again someday). I’m exaggerating a bit, but not much. It took us about 12 months and two big 1-800-Junk trucks full of purged items to prepare.

Even though we planned for this day years ago, it took two days to move our remaining stuff into the Butterfly House. The first day we moved in furniture, and we quickly realized, even with a blueprint of furniture placement, that we had too much. You can plan the plan, but you cannot plan the outcome.

Overflow in the driveway. Thank goodness we had beautiful weather!

The next day, we unloaded the second storage unit, which was full of boxes and clothes. This is when panic set in. Even Dan, who was maintaining a certain level of calm until this point, started to unravel. A truck full of boxes is unloading one after the other in a frenzy hard to keep up with. We just do the best we can to direct them to the spaces we identified a few days before as “box space” and leave paths to crucial places in the home. When I was young, my mom used a term for this situation. She called it an “Oblivet” which meant “5 pounds of S%&T in a 2 pound bag”. She did not curse but we knew what she meant.

Path from the kitchen to the front door and up the stairs.

At the end of two days we are exhausted and overwhelmed. But, we have a place to sleep and function. While the contractors and movers were here, Mimi was too. You might wonder; why would an interior designer be there on moving day? Well, all I can say is where was Mimi my whole life? Months ago, Mimi spent time with me developing the furniture blueprint. On moving day she helped direct carpet placement and furniture placement because Dan and I couldn’t be in 5 places at once. In the background of this chaos and unbeknownst to us, she set up one complete place for us to rest. It was a room that was absent of any boxes and anything stressful.

One room done by Mimi so we could find solace. Pictures will be hung soon.

But, Mimi had to go home and we had to face what was ahead of us. So what do we do? We take a shower, grab a nice meal, and make a plan for the next day. We tackle the most obvious places first, the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen. Dan is excellent at unpacking boxes quickly. He calls me the “refiner” because I organize the essential items into a functional place. We do just enough so we can sleep, get groomed and dressed, and eat. At this point we don’t have closets in our primary bedroom so our clothes are all over the place but we make do with dresser drawers in a pinch.

With the boxes unpacked, we are able to tackle the garage where all of the orphaned items go. By orphaned, I mean the items that are too big or not functional in this new space. Our driveway looks like the house vomited holidays, childrens toys, and unused furniture. This is when we start to lose it a bit.

Knick-Knacks and Flashbacks

A clock my dad made with a picture of me and Emma (18 months old).

As we were unpacking the garage, letting go of the items that no longer served a purpose, and saving the items that might serve this new life we were living, a deep sense of grief started to invade our thoughts. We didn’t speak of it that day or the next but we both felt it. It wasn’t the grief for someone who died but for the brief life we had together with all of our kids at home. It started to get really painful letting go of some items.

Dan wanted to hold onto too much to keep the memories and I wanted to let everything go so I wouldn’t start crying over it. Some of the items we struggled over were the girls Easter baskets, Emma’s Irish dancing shoes, and Keenan’s trucks. Dan would say, “I’m saving these for Curly (his nickname for our grandson) in reference to the Mattel hot wheels, army figurines, and action heroes. I would respond, “Do we have to keep all 200 of them?” In the meantime, I had only one useless Irish dance shoe… and I wanted to keep it if only to hold on to that sweet little girl in that moment in time. We were both doing the same thing… attaching an item to the love we have for our family. We weren’t letting go of stuff, we were letting go of their childhood and our time as their parents.

Texting the family pictures of our stuff and asking the question, keep or give?

Slowly, over the next few days, we had the epiphany that the time we blended our family was far too short. We were missing them, period. However, as we let go of “things” we realized that we still hold on to them and our memories. They are always in our hearts. We still have a few of our old bins with our own childhood knick-knacks and photos! So we decided to hold on to just a few, special family and personal sentimental items in the space we now call home. When the rest of the family comes to visit we will let them go through their sentimental items, take what they like and cherish, and say goodbye to the rest.

One Home. Three Crews. Zero Peace.

Our views usually include a painter, a roofer, and/or a carpenter. Ignore the port-o-potty.

Every day, contractors arrive between 7-8 am. The painters arrive first at 6:50am and wait patiently for 10 minutes until we open the doors. Next is Nick and Jack, then Bill and the roofing crew. The sound of drills, saws, and hammers insidiously blend with the hammering of a woodpecker, the songs of birds, and the babbling of the creek. Although there is zero peace in the sounds of construction, there is peace and joy at the end of the day when we can see the amount of detailed, meticulous work being done on this house.

Every single one of the craftsmen working on this home is passionate about what they do and share the wins when they accomplish beautiful work. We get to see it every day. It is a joy for us to work with all of them. It is the one aspect of this renovation that does NOT cause stress. There has not been one moment where we doubted any of their skill, intent, or integrity. When they leave at the end of the day, we walk around the house to see all of the incredible changes and this is where we find our peace.

Bobby putting stain on the restored mahogany door. Ken added glass into the panels of the solid door to expose the beautiful view of the front entrance and let more light into the house.

Family and friends keep saying, “I can’t wait to see the pictures of the final results”. We can’t either! I would love to include before and afters in this blog, but right now, we are still under construction. So there is no after, yet. There will be, just not now. That doesn’t mean there aren’t some beautiful things happening along the way. We are experiencing it live as opposed to experiencing it on our monthly visits. The progress seems slower but getting the opportunity to be here during the final weeks is very exciting.

As soon as we think a room is done and ready to be decorated, we find the furniture in the center of the room and covered in a tarp. Two steps forward and three steps back. I still have glassware, china, serving dishes, and cookbooks spread about the floor, kitchen island, and dining tables. Eventually they will be put in painted cabinets that are drying as we speak. The roof and gutters should be completed in the next 10 days and 3/4 of the house and windows have been restored and painted. Carpentry work around the garage and pergola is being finished and prepared for painting. In the meantime, I have posted a few pics in the gallery of the progress so far. We are far from being done and Instagram worthy but we are well on our way.

Mark Kealy restored each one of our 61 windows at night and on weekends over the last 10 months. The dedication, love, and work that has been invested in this home is not lost on us.