Last weekend, I moved into a new home. It’s just me and Emmy the cat. It’s the first time I’ve lived completely alone, without another human, since I was 21 years old. This wasn’t in the plan. You know, that life plan I had all mapped out. This wasn’t part of that plan. But I guess Spirit has a different plan. I’m learning to surrender to it.
I’ve had some moments while moving in when I experienced a little bit of anger at Justin. Those moments when I kept thinking, “You’re supposed to be here, too. I’m not supposed to be doing this alone.”
I found a box of his clothes in the garage and realized his suits are still in the coat closet. I haven’t decided yet what to do with them. I haven’t taken them out. But they are there. I am both comforted and overwhelmed by it.
A dear friend contacted me the week before I took possession of the house to see what my plans were for moving in. She came over with me after I got the keys, while the house was still empty, and blessed my new space. It felt good and right. I’m grateful to her for doing that with me. And for the gifts she gave, not just material ones, but of herself. I still feel her here.
A few other friends have been here, adding their energy to my space. I feel them, too.
This will be a house of happiness, of joy, of safety, of love. A house of serenity. It has room for overnight guests, pajama parties, and visits from children and grandchildren. It will be a house of life.
This house is an old house with lots of ‘character’. It’s not a new house with shiny tile floors and granite counters. It’s old, built in 1960. It has a tree in the back yard that speaks to me. I am spending a lot of time on my back porch when I’m not unpacking and settling in. It’s probably where I will spend most of my time in the coming months until it’s too hot. Outside, watching the birds and the butterflies that seem to like the tree, too. It’s a friendly tree. It’s my tree. And I am sharing it with a lot of wildlife. They seem to feel at home here, too.
Jasmine is blooming in the front flower bed. I need to clean out the weeds and the dead growth so the jasmine can flourish. It’s on the list to do in the coming weeks.
Sometimes at night, I sit on the porch and close my eyes and I can hear Justin saying, “Good girl.” I like to think he would be proud of the steps I’ve taken, am taking, to move forward and live life. Thursday will be 5 months since he left this Earthly plane. No, this wasn’t part of the plan. But it’s a new path on the journey, and I’m beginning to see farther ahead than I’ve seen for awhile now. The path isn’t as dense and full of obstacles. It’s clearing a bit and each day is becoming a bit easier to travel. I’m learning how to travel it alone. And I have a soul tribe that supports me when I need it. Or kicks my butt, as the case may be.
This house feels like home. I think I’ll stay here awhile. The tree has some stories to tell and I’m anxious to hear them. And Emmy likes it. So yeah, I think we’ll stay here awhile. And see what else Spirit puts in this new path for me.