Controlling Change

I grew up in a family that moved a lot.  When people ask me where I’m from, I tell them I’m a continental mutt!  So, as we have now passed the nine year mark in this home, I’ve been restless.  I’m not used to this kind of living.  We’ve had our fair share of struggle and change in these past nine years, but not much has been in my control.  The biggest change, of course, being Caleb’s death.  I’ve been in a change tailspin for the last six months.  I think what it boils down to is that I’ve been looking for something to change that I had complete control over.  If you’ve been in our home, you know that rearranging furniture really isn’t an option with how things are laid out.  I did pick up some new shelves for the loft and a bunk bed for the boys room at Ikea last weekend, which helped kick my butt into proactive gear.  I’ve had two gallons of very pale yellow paint sitting in the corner of my kitchen since the first week of January.  I’d decided to brighten up our bedroom with a pale yellow and light grey pallet just before Caleb died.  His death only solidified that decision, since his favorite color is yellow.

While still in the shock bubble in the weeks after, I got a bit gung ho and purchased all the supplies to redo our room as I thought about how productive I was going to be and how busy I’d keep myself with all the kids in school.  I was determined to stay busy and distracted and rarely spent time at home.  Being home alone was just too hard. Then, the shock bubble burst and one day I spent 15 minutes deep cleaning before realizing I hadn’t heard a sound in the house that entire time, save me.  So, naturally, I went to my room, cried, and spent the rest of the day in bed until it was time for the kids to come home.  The daily household routine took some time do adjust to when by myself, but I got there.  Now, a few months in, I’ve taken out the paint and I’m controlling my change, in my space, in my way.  I have my pale yellow paint and distressed, grey wood for my accent wall.  Today, I take one more step towards being the best version of the new me.  That yellow, Caleb’s favorite color, will greet Brig and I in a bright and cheerful way every morning…just like Bub.  We aren’t waiting for a “hi, Bub” each day, we’re making our own.  After all, he lived life on his own terms and did anything and everything he wanted to.  So, what better way to honor him than by doing the same?

Caleb at 7 months old in one of his

Caleb at 7 months old in one of his “yey-yoh” shirts.

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