(Don't I wish that it would be one of those kinds of posts..not quite yet...)
I think I've found the paint color for the living room. It's a blue grey and perfect. I wanted the second bedroom grey to match my color scheme and Reese's (since it will be my room for the foreseeable future and then hers), but I've been through about nine different greys and it's impossible to find one that isn't too blue or too green. Besides, that's a lot of grey in the house (at least Jack's room is a bearable Sounders green - from last season, not this year). So, I picked up a light lilac paint sample today and I hope it works. We start painting on Monday (we being me and a few amazing, generous friends). We'll be painting while the sheet rock guy puts up new walls in the living room. Yup, there's no turning back now.
On the drive home from the kids' birthday party today (Ed's brother and best friend, Steve and his wife, were gracious enough to host in part to avoid me having to host in a half packed house and in part to keep the memory of Ed a little further away), I realized how familiar the unbearable has become. My 20 year high school reunion is tonight and I wished I had more foresight to have figured out a way to go. It would have been lovely to see everyone and to remember who I was before I was a Kingston, because I think it would have given me some inspiration. Besides, the drive home from family events is awful. So awful. The kids are tired and tuned out. There's nothing on the radio, so the silence is stifling. I find myself facing the reality of Ed's death in the car- it's so real, I can't wrap my head around it. After nine months, the fabric of a new routine has woven itself around our daily lives, and part of that thread includes the wrongness of our life as three, not four. Long drives home are a brutal reminder of that reality and there's no where to hide.
And yet, there are moments- very brief- that I can feel a surge of something besides common despair. I can't wait to get to the new house. I love it there; I unpacked the kitchen this morning while the kids were at the parade with friends and I was energized. On the drive home, I realize that some of blues were because I wasn't driving to the new house- but because I was driving to our current home, the house I have, in the best of times, put up with. Do you realize that this means that there's a possible FIX for the blues- that they may not actually *all* be permanent? This is HUGE. And, earlier this week, I had a glimpse of what I could be at work, how my job is a great fit and that there's a lot I want to do with it. With this career move, I'm redefining myself and what a gift to have a new professional canvas to draw on.
The paint color in the living room is called Divine Fog. It seems appropriate. I can't see very far in front of the current moment, and though the mood is often heavy and grey, there is some clearling and it reveals something promising, even exciting.
Over the nowhere arches the everywhere. ~ Maria Rainer Rilke