Katie’s Mom Gets A New Home

You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.”
Matthew 5: 4 The Message


Katie’s Mom Gets A New Home

No one told me it was going to be so cold this morning. The wind is biting; it chills me all the way through. Throwing the strap of my purse over my shoulder, and holding my coffee with one hand, I reach for my house key with the other. My hands are stiff and numb from the cold, so much so that I find it difficult to turn the key to open the door.

Once I’m finally inside; I feel relieved, and I think about the countless times I’ve walked into and out of this house over the years. But today is different. This will be the last time I ever go in or out of this place. Dread washes over me like a wave, so I hold my coffee close. I admit that I love coffee way too much. I’m probably addicted to it. I like it because it comforts and it warms me. And I really need that today.

The last thing I have left to do is to clean out my bedroom closet. All my furniture went to storage three days ago and I’ve spent the past two days shuttling loads of smaller items either to storage or to my new place. This has all been prearranged with the bank and I feel I have planned my exit very well. I’ll rent a room from a friend for awhile, and see where things go from there.

Walking through the house today feels a little like it did the first time I walked through it. That was nineteen years and twenty five pounds ago. Katie, my daughter, was eight back then. I remember how she ran around the place crazy with delight. This house felt huge and big and warm to Katie and me. It was so much bigger than our dreams ever were.

Walking down the hall, my foot finds the only creaky board in the whole house. I love this creaky old board. It has been like a sounding board, helping me track Katie’s movements around the house when she was young and mischievous. At the end of the hall I turn and look into her room. For a moment I thought I heard her playing music and dancing. When she was ten, she convinced me to paint her room an incredibly ugly peachy-pink. We did it together and she loved it. I never told her how much I hated that color and I meant to change it when she left for college. But I never did. Peachy-pink doesn’t look so bad to me now. Why did it bother me all these years?

Painting Katie’s room wasn’t the only thing we did to this house. There was a new kitchen six years ago. New windows and doors five years ago. And new trim, molding, paint and carpet three years ago. I invested a great deal of my perfectionism into this house. I wonder if it was my way of trying to give Katie the kind of home I never had when I was growing up.

My closet is empty now and the car is full. So I go back into the house to get my coffee. I’ve left it sitting on the hearth by the fireplace in the living room. This was always my favorite place. Sitting here on the hearth, I enjoy the view, this house, and my memories. I had planned on living here forever, you know. But things change.

Things started to change for me two years ago when my employer went out of business. I went to work for the company when I was nineteen. It was always steady, and it provided the wherewithal to buy this house. Between my job and our homes growing equity I was able to raise Katie, pay for her braces, dance classes, school functions, church youth camps, the house remodel, Katie’s car, her college, and part of her wedding. This house has taken very good care of Katie and me.

Katie is all grown up now. She is married and pregnant, due in eight weeks or so. I am so very proud of her and the life she is building for herself and her family. I had expected to care for my grandchildren in this house but that is not going to happen now. My life will not work out as I had hoped. This house is not my home anymore. There is nothing left here. There is just me, my cup of cheap store bought coffee, my memories, and God. The full weight of my loss is wrapped up in this moment and this place. And while I can leave this place behind, this moment and this pain will be with me forever.

With Katie being grown, I don’t feel like I have to be strong anymore. I have no energy so I sit quietly here on this hearth, refusing to pretend or play nice with myself or with God. He knows how bad I feel, and I am not going to deny it. Endless sips of coffee will never wash this feeling away. I’m stuck with all this feeling. And I will do my best to accept it as simply and honestly as I can manage to accept it.

I am not responsible for what I could not foresee, but I am responsible for what I do with what I know now, and how I live in the future. The value of my painful moment is not determined by the history that has preceded it. My moment’s value will be determined by what I do with it going forward in the future.

My focus begins to shift. Slowly. My thoughts turn to God. Remembering Him alone on a cross makes me feel not so alone anymore. I sense His grace with me and my self-pity begins to drift away. The eye of my heart opens. I begin to see how God is building a new home for me, and I am going to reach out and embrace this new home the best I can. The life that God gives me reaches beyond the pain and sadness I feel. It reaches beyond my job, my house or anything I could ever provide for Katie and me. God will give me a new home. He is building it inside of me, and no one will ever take it away. The home that God builds is a gift. But, while I consider it a gift, I know it does not come without cost. It requires that I surrender my life and my will to God each day so that He can give it back to me in a way that is better than I could ever make it on my own. This moment has been painful. However, at the same time, it has been very, very good.

My coffee has grown cold so I am going to go and get a refill now. With one last look around, I realize how small this house has been. Now I know it has not gotten smaller. So I think I must have grown. I know my dreams have.

I also need to drop the keys off at the bank and then I’m off to visit Katie. We have a baby shower tomorrow. What a great day that will be. It may be the best day ever!