joyful2beeblogs

In 2003 my husband, H, and I were looking for a new home to move closer to Raleigh, where his job had brought us. After checking out several houses, we went to look at “the one!” It was in a cul de sac with friendly neighbors. The home was a lovely place to live with lots of trees in the wooden fenced-in yard, complete with squirrels and a wealth of leaves to be raked up every fall. There was also a garage, which we never had before.

We met the real estate agent there to see what this home might be like. Before we walked into the house, my husband warned me not to act too excited, if I was really in love with the house; “just to help keep the price down.” Well, I walked in and immediately saw the pale pink, white, and blue sponge painted walls of the living room. I looked up at the two skylights in the sloping ceiling and gasped as I looked around! I loved the paint colors. They reminded me of a beautiful sunset. H. laughed, he understood.

We moved in, and our new home felt so wonderful. The garage became the storage area and was full of U-Haul boxes with papers from his seminary days and more boxes with books from theology to science fiction, to German and many other topics on one wall, as well as in the middle of the garage.

In 2009, after my husband’s death and our first son had moved in with roommates, two of the bedrooms were used for storing stuff. Over the years, the garage, already full of rarely opened boxes, became quite a challenge. Most of the boxes were books, old papers from his schooling from college to seminary, some 12 years before. Then, there were two boxes of laser discs, which he had kept for years for some unknown reasons. The garage was so full that I couldn’t park my Volkswagen Bèetle in the garage! Thankfully, my first son came and helped me make a clear path through the boxes and stuff. Finally, after all the time I had lived there, I could park my Beetle in the garage!

I had often worried when I came home from work in the morning, after working the night shift at the hospital, that I would find him dead with his poorly controlled high blood pressure, swollen legs and feet, diabetes, and obesity. That is another blog post for later. But he passed in 2009. From then on, I spent time trying to sell or give away some of his seminary books to his friends. I sold the boxes of laser discs to a store-like place at the fairgrounds. I went through a lot of his papers and weeded out the unimportant to me.

My brother came over and helped me rearrange the furniture, assess his clothes that could be donated, and made a list with their values. There were also books on shelves that he loved to read, and we donated them also or kept the ones I treasured. It was a big challenge for me to do these things, but with help and perseverance and determination, I whittled down those things that did not matter to me and kept the things I treasured.

I was given my cat, Norie, from my second son and his wife. Norie, a little over a year old, was great company and loved to watch me work in the kitchen by jumping up on the counter and then the refrigerator and then the surfaces above the cabinets, so she could sit and watch from above as I cooked or washed dishes. She was and still is a delightful companion.

A few years after H’s death from right sided heart failure, I developed sciatica and back problems. I couldn’t rake the leaves, let alone bag them! I tried to water the grass in front of the house. It was an oddly shaped yard: a narrow strip on one side and a rectangular section on the other that extended to both sides of the house up to the wooden gates. The sprinkler had to be moved several times, with each watering, to water each side adequately. I had to pay someone to cut the grass.

This was more than I could take care of, especially in the back yard with the multiple trees that shed their lovely leaves in the fall. I had to go on disability through the hospital’s disability insurance, which amazingly enough, my husband had suggested that I sign up for it, a year before his death. Thankfully, I signed up for disability right away and had disability income for two years before I formally “retired” from nursing.

I decided that I did not need three bedrooms and needed a smaller place to live, with no yard to take care of. Thankfully, I found my condo with two bedrooms and an area to park in front of my condo. My sons and friends helped me move out, and while the papers were being drawn up and other issues resolved, I stored my belongings in the storage place up the road for a month. So for a month, Norie and I moved in with my second son and his wife.

Finally, it was time to move in to my new home! I had lots of help from my family and friends. I have been here since 2014 and have the best neighbors anyone could want. My life is good, peaceful, and filled with family, friends, neighbors, and my cat, Norie.

I am thankful for my condo. The care and cleaning are not hard on my back. I am content and happy to be here.