posted in: the Dahls | 1

I just spent 8 hours cleaning my house.  And didn’t get past the upstairs.

It was pathetic, really.  Three bedrooms.  One bathroom.  8 hours.

There were remnants of company between Hadley’s birthday and Christmas, yes, but also every article of clothing worn and tossed aside just short of the laundry basket; boxes returned from storage after my failed attempt at a home sale; three different suitcases from recent (and not-so-recent) trips – once folded clothes now strewn amidst jewelry and shoes and plane ticket stubs from some hurried search; garbage bags full of stuff moved from my months of living with Jordan and Molly, packed by my mom and their contents long-forgotten.

I’ve practically lived out of a suitcase since May.  When Taryn came home for the summer and we began our North Dakota endeavors (with detours to bajillion weddings, Salt Lake City, and L.A.), I packed up and lived on the road or in anticipation of it.  And I loved it.  The feeling of being unsettled offered hope.  Planning for the next trip meant forgetting that Taryn would eventually leave, and Hadley and I would be alone.  Again.  In Fargo.

When Taryn went back to school in August, Hadley and I retreated to Jordan and Molly’s basement.  Truthfully, the summer had been great – filled with so much growth and truth and life – so great that I was terrified by the potential of going “back” to the way things were before it began.

But my house didn’t sell, and we started to crave our own space, so I resolved to move home after returning from Maryland in November.  And I did.

But I didn’t unpack.

In part it was my reality.  Life isn’t lonely now – our days are filled with people and life and opportunities to love and be loved.  I would just dig out what I needed and toss the rest aside.  We settled into the parts of our house that we needed – office, play room, living room, kitchen.  But left the living part alone.  Who has time for unpacking boxes?

But in part, there was still that hope.  That maybe I would try to sell my house again, or a roommate would appear, or the opportunity for another trip would arise, or – better yet – a move.

So tonight.  I took my toiletries out of their hanging bag and put them in the cupboard; I put books back on the bookshelves; I folded clothes and actually hung them in the closet.  I found places for all of the things that never had a place.

I unpacked.
I settled.
I took a deep breath, and accepted my home.
And then I smiled.

Because this thing that I feared so much for so long is actually not quite so scary.

One Response

  1. I don’t think you could’ve ever imagined how much this would speak to my heart right now. Thank you for writing this. 🙂

    And welcome back to blogging!