There was a little area of my home that I like to think was “mine.” The area that gave me some peace in days of chaos, strength to build for the new endeavors of the day ahead, and just a place to breathe.
This space included an old small green patio table and one matching chair from 2001 and a porch swing with a faded pillow on it. If you could see the snapshot in my mind of it you would see that Better Homes & Garden would never have it in one of their issues. But it was mine. It was a slice of a few things that represented my life, apparently much more than I ever even thought.
The worn table represented the first piece of furniture I bought on my own, after a divorce. Since purchasing it I would find myself looking at gave me a strength or push of sorts I guess. To get through each day. Looking at it made me feel proud that I could do that single life thing and buy this measly piece of furniture. Fast forward 16 years later and I see how I made it through on the other side, now married, and raising my family with lessons learned from that life experience.
The set is not in style, not even a color I enjoy, and only one of the chairs remain. (But those chairs were the most comfortable dang things ever!) Oh sure, I had a summer tablecloth on it, along with a fire burner thing that was my Mom’s but that was about it.
The porch swing was a gift from my husband and daughter one Christmas and I love it. That’s actually where I sat to re-fuel myself. To calm myself. To look out over the sunsets. I had my husband install it so I could see the sunsets in the west and be near my lilac bushes.
When I sat on the porch swing I never did sit like you’re suppose to. I always sat with my legs up and my back against the arm of the swing. The faded non-outdoor pillow supported my back and kept it from digging into the chains and the arm. Comfort. That’s what I had with my porch swing and it’s faded pillow.
This is no longer a place for me. One small moment in time has changed that. It took me two days to be able to even walk into that area.
Some may think I’m over dramatic and that’s fine. Just keep it to yourself please. But when the only image you continue to see is the one that sent fear through your body it is what it is.
The most of the space has been disassembled and moved. I had already thought of doing this of course but never mentioned it. My daughter made it a point to tell her father herself in casual conversation. I guess great minds do think alike! 🙂 Her feeling safe in her own home is the most important thing.
I’ve already been thinking of ways to update the post divorce table and chair. I can’t bear to part with it, it stands for something in my mind! Repainting and recovering it, making it fresh and updated. Will the image fade even more then? Will this help or is it a band-aid of sorts.
I’ve had trauma in my life before. Much worse than what I experienced recently. The more processing I do I find that I believe the reason it may be so prominent this time is because my child was involved. That the involvement of my child and my own experiences only enhances the magnitude in my mind.
So. For now. I will eat my breakfast inside or on my back deck. I will ponder the refurbishing of the post divorce table and perhaps eventually swing once more as the sun goes down.