There
are those who say a good relationship is based on trust. Then there are those
who say it is based on something much less tangible. And they call that something names such as
‘love’, ‘spiritual connection’, ‘kindred spirits’ or maybe ‘chemistry’. I think my relationship (and whether it is
considered a good one depends on your point of view) must be based on sweat
equity.
That
bears explaining. Over the years (and
we’ve been together long enough to start looking forward to grandchildren)
we’ve owned several houses. Each one
located in a different city, and different state as well. They were all different styles of homes,
different sizes, different kinds of neighborhoods, different colors and sold to
us by different people. They all had two
things in common. First, they all needed
a great deal of work in order to be livable, and they were all purchased by my partner
without my ever having seen them. I know
what you are thinking, but I trust my beloved - and I pray a lot. I do have to admit that I absolutely loathed
every single one of those houses - right up until I thought about having to
sell them to move. Then I realized just
exactly what dream houses they were. Of
course, in comparison to what we were moving into they probably were.
To
be fair, my darling surely meant well.
He is a real ‘hands on’ kind of guy.
Early in our courtship and bonding he was a contractor. He built beautiful custom homes with his own
hands (well, his and his crew’s). And he
loved it. He has spent most of his
career, however behind a desk, also doing something he loves, but, he misses
the physical labor and process of building ‘something’ from ‘nothing’. And, it wasn’t his fault that he ended up
purchasing our homes alone. Each of our
moves was across several states (at least) and our budget couldn’t stretch to
cover both of us making the house-buying trip.
So, my love would carefully search for the ideal place. Sailing right past the new model homes, the
decorator specials, the cozy cottages and the neat-as-a-pin dwellings he would
zero in on the handyman heavens, the “needs a little TLCs” and the “has a lot
of potentials”, until he found “IT”. Our
new home.
The
thing that saved our pair-bond through each of these highly stressful and
potentially damaging events had to be our work ethic. Picture the scene as I
would be introduced to our new living quarters to be: Love-O-Mine would saunter
around the crumbling and cracking exteriors of these eyesores, dragging me
along, and point out things like “the sound construction” and “solid
foundation” explaining that some caulk and some paint and “she’ll be a real
showplace!” And I must admit HE sure
looked handsome as he glowingly outlined his plans for a grand new landscaping
scheme and darling white picket fences or river rock retaining walls or stylish
low brick enclosures even though the house still looked like one of those
places they are removing children from on the six-o’clock news. And I found it easy to get caught up in his
enthusiasm. Good sense usually prevailed
as we would reenter the debris strewn and dirt-encrusted house proper.
I would shake my head and delicately express
my doubt as to the rehabilitation prospects for the hideous decor, with
comments like “Who in their RIGHT MIND would put orange carpet on the
WALLS?!” He knew just what to say. “You’re probably right,” he’d agree. “Even a genius decorator couldn’t do anything
for this place.” “Well, I don’t know
about that.” I’d say. And then I’d be off, rising to the challenge,
making plans and coming up with color schemes and offering advice on how to get
things as clean and bright as new.
Next
thing I knew it was too late - we were up to our armpits in remodeling and
wallpapering and painting. The kids were
excitedly planning their bedrooms, I was scouring antique malls and flea
markets for deals and we were all making an investment of time and effort and
heart in the old homestead. And
somewhere between signing on the dotted line, underneath the drywall dust, the
bits of leftover wallpaper, paint encrusted brushes, and sweat and sacrifice -
I kind of grew to love the place.
By
the way, we just moved again. Boy is
this place UGLY!
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