It's been quite a while since I've thought about my pagan beliefs. This past spring was overshadowed by my coming out of a depression and starting to pack to move in with Boyfriend - a definite new chapter in my life. And then came the Move itself, with unpacking, settling in, a roof to be done, items to be sorted. And enjoying the summer as best we could. Visits back to see Hubby. Now a strike and a medical issue creating busyness.
But tonight I had my bridge ladies over to my new home for the first time. And it felt wonderful. Of course I had to give the grand tour when they arrived. My home is tidy, clean, and comfortable. Boyfriend's natural orderliness is rubbing off on me. It's a home you can relax in.
Hubby's home, on the other hand, is chaotic, noisy and cluttered. Poor Hubby is trying to hold it all together, with precious little help from his two DNA replicants, plus a destructive dog and a (shedding) long-haired cat. Stepdaughter's clothes are knee-deep in her room, and Stepson's clothes occupy four of the nine rooms in the house, plus the stairway. Both of them leave their personal effects wherever they drop. The concept of being considerate to the people they live with has simply not made it to their consciousness.
To be sure, they both help out from time to time, either when yelled at sufficiently or if they want to have people over. But the house usually looks like it could be on "Hoarders."
As Dr. Phil would no doubt say, this situation will continue as long as Hubby allows it to continue. It will stop when he makes it stop, and not a moment before.
When I go visit Hubby I try to help him out a bit. I can empty, load, and run the dishwasher. I can do laundry. I can change the sheets on the bed. I can pick up dog poop. I can brush the cat and give her water.
When I lived with Hubby I was able to keep the chaos mostly at bay. I would get angry much quicker than he did, I would insist that the children be made to pitch in. Apparently when I left everyone breathed one gigantic sigh of relief. There would be no more yelling.
And everything went to pot. Dirt, debris, junk all sifted into each room, basically filling all the available space, filling even the air with confusion.
I still love Hubby very much, and it breaks my heart to see him living in these conditions. And it has cast a shadow over me, over my happiness in my new home. It is hard to be happy when people we love are living in misery.
I had to leave. I was angry all the time, I was fighting a losing battle. I was constantly informed that I wasn't the parent, and every attempt was made to subvert my authority as the homeowner, and Hubby allowed it, didn't back me up, and it drove me away.
And now I have a different life. Still close to Hubby, yes. But my world is orderly, calm, relaxed. There is no fighting, there are no battles. Here there is cooperation and appreciation. Both Boyfriend and I are working together to keep our home serene.
And tonight I was thrilled to walk my bridge friends through my new home and welcome them here, where I live now.
The eldest member of our group is in her eighties - I'm not sure how high, but she's getting up there! She's been a friend of my Grandmother, my Mother and Father, a friend to me, to my Daughter and Stepchildren. She is one of the loveliest people ever to grace this earth. And tonight she said to me, as she was leaving, that it did her heart good to see me settled again in such a lovely home.
And now finally I can be truly thankful that I've been brought, safe and sound, to harbour. It feels now like I have permission to enjoy my life here, in this pleasant and comfortable place.
It feels like home.
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