Who knew, after nine months of having a houseguest that we would feel the "empty nest" syndrome.
Bill may not, but I do. In a small way.
For those of you who didn't know, we had a friend (Bill and he went to Central together) who needed a place to live. I had felt a call to help out someone else, so when this actual plea went out, I knew I was being called to be there for him. After all, Bill had lived with him and his [now ex] partner in Detroit for two years. It was the least we could do to pay him back in a small way.
Time may not heal all wounds, but it does help to lessen the pain.
Let me just say, a lot happened in the last nine months. It wasn't always pretty and it wasn't always easy. I discovered a lot about myself and I hope that I grew in this time.
We gave him respite and a place to heal. With absolutely no expectations (no rent, no asking for money for electricity, etc) other than to buy his own groceries half way through, he had a roof over his head and his cat's.
Now he's gone. The room is empty. The attic is empty (we had cleaned the attic and the basement back in the late summer in anticipation of his moving here with his stuff). The basement still has a few boxes, but they're tucked away in a corner out of the way.
Bill and I are going to re-do that room which is our guest room. Sort of like what happens when parents are empty-nesters. We'll give it a fresh paint job, new window treatments, scrape the popcorn off the ceiling and re-finish the wood floors (which have been in poor shape since we moved in eight years ago).
We have an antique table from a friend's deceased grandfather. It was given to us back when I was refinishing antique furniture. I have since had a revelation that I can use that table in the newly finished guest room.
This past weekend, Bill pulled it out of the garage and I removed the newspaper that it had been wrapped up in. It needs a little more work then I realized. One of the dowels on the leg is broken. I'm going to have to drill it out and replace it. Then I'm going to sand it. And then, if I can handle it, I'm going to paint it. It's not like it's mahogany or anything like that. If anything it's oak, probably pine. The legs are turned. I'll take pictures. Like always.
I'll also take pictures of our progress on the guest room. Which is completely empty and full of echoes.
I'm thankful for fresh starts.