My bragging rights
We had friends over last night who are getting ready to head out of the country for a year and another friend came with them. I was showing him around the house and telling him the blow by blow of how this house came to fruition, except having done this tour before I’ve shortened the lengthy monologue I used to perform.
The truth is I earned my bragging rights about this house. I remember when T moved in I told her I had sent Steve a thank you note for this house and said to him it was a gift of love (his response was uh, it wasn’t supposed to be). Then later when T would tell the story she would strip S’s response from the narrative and say only that it was a gift of love from him. For some reason, this had the effect of making me bristle and I think it’s because I thought people might assume this house had been handed to me on a silver platter by some rich ex-husband.
There was no silver platter let me tell you, and my mortgage is still gargantuan and the headache and heartache that are the foundation of this house are only now waning. I think about when I first moved in when I would be stricken by a paralysis of missing my marriage, my life before so intensely that it would take my breath away. Those episodes got fewer and farther in between as time went on.
The money it took to make this house is only substantial in external currency terms, the fortitude and tenacity it took to manage Steve’s graceful design against an unsympathetic work force is something that no marathon medal could ever compare with – post Katrina, with little know how and lots of spunk masking my sorrow, I feel like I built this house nail by nail.
So when I’m waltzing with a white wine spritzer through the LaLa and telling the story of how it came to be, I feel like I earned the role of doyenne and the bragging rights that come with it.
June 29th, 2009 at 11:16 am
This post reminds me of A PLACE CALLED SWEET APPLE by southern author, journalist, and syndicated columnist Celestine Sibley. (She reported for the Atlanta Constitution from 1941 until her death in 1999–don’t know if you’ve heard of her.) You should think of expanding your monologue with some of these day to day events–like the shooting at Pal’s–I’d be first in line to buy the book!
(Btw, thanks for the comments at Wintersong, especially the John Denver link. Enjoyed it a lot!)
June 29th, 2009 at 5:48 pm
Thanks Alice – good to hear from you. I’ve peeked in now and then on your travels – overwhelming how many things ya’ll are doing in just one day!