Embracing change, for a change
A few weeks ago, I wrote about my red walls. I talked about how moving to my red-walled house was hard, but how once here, any alterations have been even harder. I’m the person who replaces the broken blow dryer with exactly the same model to save learning features of a new one; who wears things long after full presentability to avoid having to appreciate an update; who clings to 1990s CD technology because the ghetto blaster still works; and who pivoted so hard at the beginning of COVID, I landed on my mental and emotional ass.
In the red wall piece, I announced to the world I was readying my house for tenants as I plan my escape to my yet-to-be-approved laneway suite — a HUGE change. It’s made me reflect on how change itself is not that troubling, but it’s unexpected and uncontrollable change that throws me.
My MO is making slow, incremental routes forward with lay-bys and U-Turn signs along the way. When I took a three year side-trip to BC to get a law degree in my 30s, I kept my condo and all my stuff in Toronto in the hands of tenants, ensuring I could resume living there afterwards. Moving into this house with Jack was virtually risk free from a change perspective because I kept my condo, again, tenanted. Even Jack knew I had the escape hatch in sight, if living together proved too much. Not just housing though - professionally, I stayed in the City of Toronto clerks office for seven years, sampling different jobs but not straying outside of the department’s warm bosom. Then I tested the waters outside clerks with a secondment to an NGO, rather than a complete resignation. As cautious as Hansel and Gretel, I leave breadcrumbs to find my way back.
I am now nearly finished what seemed like minor house renovations. For 16 weeks, I have had a jack of all trades in my house, six days a week. Most people move out during these kinds of renovations but instead, I’ve survived it by creating a giant shell game of all my possessions. I have shifted and sorted and relocated room-by-room, staying sometimes just a few hours ahead of the renovator, sometimes not even that as he’s had to work around plants, piles of magazines, and the other detritus of daily life.
The final and by far the most traumatic upheaval has been the kitchen, where, for four weeks, all my cupboards have been empty and their contents in boxes in my dining room. This weekend I’m reclaiming the heart of my house - the place where I channel all my creativity that doesn’t involve words. (Well, truth be told, I often write in the kitchen too.) Sure, there’s a few things still to be done, but I’m grateful the worst is behind me.
Other than a lot of actual take-away*, the take aways from this experience have been many.
The process of unearthing possessions and making difficult decisions about their future - with me in my new home, with tenants in the house, sell, give away, throw out - has been cleansing and financially rewarding as I edge up on $6K in proceeds from Facebook Marketplace.
Watching each room transform into something my imagined millennial tenants will love (and pay good coin for) has made the over-long 2022 COVID winter #3 a little less tedious.
I’m sad to lose red walls and others signs of my life with Jack and of the long period of COVID lockdowns when I was alone in my lair. At the same time, I’m excited at the promise of the future, knowing Jack would be laughing at this wacky idea of living in something even smaller than our house which he complained was much too small.
Not knowing - yet - whether my laneway suite project will be a “go” but forging ahead anyway has been less troubling for me than it once would have. Perhaps it was living with the unpredictability of Jack’s illness for three years or living with the chaos of Jack in the six years before that. Or maybe it’s from life’s major lesson that it’ll all work out in the end, and if it hasn’t worked out, it’s not the end. Regardless, my nearly zen-like (for me) approach to this level of uncertainty has been a shock to me and, I suspect, to all those who know me.
So now let me unveil some of the new look. I am grateful to input from Pam and Sue at Jade and Indigo, as well as countless conversations with friends and with my renovator who always says he knows nothing about design and then makes my good ideas even better.
There are some big things left to be done - installation of front and rear door being the biggest along with some shifting around of furniture. Obviously, the sofa goes with me to the garage! I look forward to your thoughts. If you know anyone who might like to rent, I expect to be looking for medium term tenants (6 months to maybe 2 years max) starting late in 2022, all being well. Stay tuned to this space for details!
*aka take-out
