Spring is a beautiful promise. The air changes, the sun loses its watery, winter light and amps up the volume. Green overtakes brown and birds begin their beautiful serenade in the trees. Spring heralds the physical labor necessary to remove winter death and the pallor of dormant landscape. Brown and yellow are replaced with rich dark soil and tiny, green sprouts. Spring is hope and the prequel to the full-bodied richness of summer.
Daylight lingered as I aided the spring transformation this year. I cleared dead stalks from the flower beds and looked for any hint of green breaking through the dirt. Yellow grass was raked up, and windows were thrown open to welcome the sweet breeze. My cedar fencing was re-stained along with the patio and decks.
At the end of May, as I added another coat of coverage to my 30-year-old boards, my mind wandered to previous versions of myself in the exact same spot; previous versions of our family and previous versions of what our home was like. The smell of new growth and water sealant rushed through my nostrils this year. The sun warmed my muscles as thirty years of images clicked through my brain. With each brush stroke, I remembered parties, milestones, tears, and laughter. We weathered difficulties, mourned death and welcomed new life in this home. We honored traditions, hung decorations, and lived each moment.
Our first major project, as new homeowners, was to create a fenced backyard for our black lab. We worked together after work each night, stringing twine for a guide, digging holes and creating a beautiful, strong, straight fence. There was satisfaction in adding value and seeing our hard work come to fruition. We were DINKS (dual income, no kids) with a dog, a cat and wonderful friends. We reveled in the life of young professionals.
The third year in our home, I
stained the fence as a pregnant mom-to-be. Our world changed soon after, when
we welcomed our first kiddo. Life kicked into double time as we navigated being
new parents. Our home adjusted, welcoming a small baby and a Disney themed
nursery. It was the backdrop for memories; first steps, first words, birthdays
and promotion to big brother.
When our second kiddo blessed our lives, I had navigated six years of staining in our home. I learned to stain while keeping littles occupied. Our home bore the trappings of a young family; bottles, blocks, baby toys. Our hearts were full as life sped up and our simple home became a haven for our family.
Almost every year, I stained the boards and watched the subtle changes to us and our home. Mom and baby days moved to pre-school playdates. Playdates moved to after-school hang outs, Halloween parties, birthday parties and team dinners. Team gatherings turned quickly into high school graduation parties and then college graduation parties.
Our backyard, once home to a turtle sandbox and a plastic slide welcomed a trampoline complete with inflatable dinosaurs, gators, flamingos and beach balls. Hot wheels, squirt guns and nerf darts littered the yard, until they didn’t. Time passed swiftly and my boys grew into men. The trampoline sat quietly until the time came to say good-bye. The space was cleared and replaced with a patio that held a hot tub, lounge chairs and a fire pit. The perfect space for late night chats with friends.
Our house isn’t fancy. It’s not in an affluent, rich neighborhood, doesn’t have marble countertops, or wood flooring, but it’s home and has weathered the season’s cycles for the last 30 years. The walls have been repainted, and the basement finished. Our home has kept our pets safe and anchored our life. It has been a temporary home for family and friends and remains a welcome space. The door is open, and the kitchen is always ready for chatter, family game night and love.
The bedrooms no longer contain the subtle scent of my young sons. Our furniture is different and the walls mostly hear just my husband and I, but our boys, who are now men, know it will always be their home. As our family grows, my hope is each new member feels the love and safety of our home.
Thirty years ago, we bought a house
and built a fence that has withstood everything life could throw at us. Thirty
years ago, we created a home.
