Thursday, September 21, 2017

Splinters--My symbol of everything

Standing in the middle of my kitchen, looking at the water damage, the rancid smell of old house and old mold wafting under my nose, and invisioning that nest must have been the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (based on its size), I knew, in that moment that my marriage wasn't as broken as it appeared.
Completely backwards, considering everything I was looking at was broken.
Nevertheless, the house became what it started out for me.

A symbol of everything. The pain. The healing. The s%@!t (literal mouse feces). The splinters. The safety. The waiting. Everything.

And with each whack and scrape, I saw in my mind's eye parts of me that are broken, breaking, or needing to be remodeled. And I cried. There in my overalls and tennis shoes I cried like this:

(only not nearly as cute)

Knowing that things with my marriage can (crossing fingers) be rebuilt. And things within me can be fixed. And all the old crap can be taken out with the refuge when the trash man comes again.

This journey has been a lonely one. I'd love to journey with friends. Please follow this blog or you can follow me on facebook and we can journey together. Whatever you are going through (everybody has their stuff). Let's journey together.

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