I could also call this "A man, a plan, a credit card, a few trips to Home Depot, a bunch of sweat, a roof." But truly, I am rejoicing to the point that "hallelujah" blots out all else.
Saving the 80-year-old structure my grandfather built has been wearing on my psyche since I first really understood that the structure was vulnerable. So, somewhere between ten and fifteen years.
During the first five years, I had to learn to take responsibility. I'm still working on it, but I made huge strides during those years. For one thing, I learned to ask hard questions about legal and financial matters (though baby steps, as it turned out). And like that there.
During the middle five years, I had to learn how to do things. Those years were the hardest--actually into the sixth and seventh years, I still despaired. Any project I undertook to make the place feel less forlorn--painting inside or outside, clearing mouse habitations from various places (ick), spraying against ants eating through the roof--were ultimately undone by the leaking roof.
But before anything could be done about the roof--which actually was replaced maybe ten or twelve years ago, but not properly--we had to figure out how to resolve issues with the building's foundations. Thanks to the weight of a piano over the course of fifty years, the entire back section was sinking into the ground. The front sleeping porch was sliding off to the right, and the bathroom was falling off to the left.
However, the world is a different place today. Since the summer of 2004, I have known that eventually this day would come. We have addressed the issues of the foundation (and when I say "we," I mean Roy). The roof is on (also Roy) and new flooring (ditto) is nearly ready to accept the piano, I hope for 50 more years. Now the tasks I undertake, like painting flooring, aren't equivalent to rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.
Yes, there was more responsibility-taking along the way. Yes, there has been more learning how to do things. But the biggest thing I've learned is that it is possible to find solutions to issues. As a wise woman used to tell me, you always have choices; you may not always like them, but you always have them.
But possibly the biggest lesson I've learned is the true meaning of "labo(u)r of love." And what a gift THAT has been.
