By the end of this week, we will have lived in our new house for four weeks.
Four weeks that have seemingly, flown by.
In contrast to the prior ten weeks, which challenged us, daily.
We have absolute gratitude for having a place to stay for the ten weeks between closing on our old house, and closing on our new, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t wear us down. Completely.
Living out of boxes will do that, I suppose. But beyond the living out of boxes, it just felt stressful.
We powered through the first few weeks with the optimism that the stay was temporary. And we chose to live in the basement area, to protect our host and ourselves, as the COVID pandemic raged on.
But as the new house completion date was delayed, over and over, we grew tired. And sometimes often, cranky.
We got on each other’s nerves.
But we also leaned on each other. Hard.
We learned a lot about ourselves and each other, living in closer quarters. And we learned some valuable life lessons as well. (Like confirming that the finished basement has vents from the furnace. Or not.)
As difficult as it was, I’m incredibly grateful for our ten weeks of cellar dwelling. We survived it together. And it’s now officially etched into our story.
Forever.
tween style file:
