We’ve lived here almost one year now… still living out of boxes. Should I still feel like I’m living in a motel room?
It’s not my place to decorate or make wholesale change because, in a sense, I’m a guest. I keep clean, keep safe and keep familiar the surroundings of the one we care for.
But what about the space we do occupy?
You wouldn’t think a single man with an army career would be such a homebody, especially as busy as he’s been the last 10 years…
… multiple combat tours to Afghanistan and Iraq, an instructor at Ranger school in Georgia, a deployment to Haiti right after the earthquake…
If anyone knows uncertainty, the fragile nature of life… I imagine it would be a combat soldier. Yet during that time he bought and sold three homes.
He put down roots even knowing he would be deployed again and again… and again.
He took the time to paint the walls and hang the pictures, fill the bookshelves and make it be that comfy space called home… right down to the cowbell hanging on the front door.
His door is always open to family, friends and his soldiers. He lives each day with purpose. He doesn’t put things on hold until everything is “back to normal”… as I’m prone to do.
And he’s teaching me a lesson.
That very uncertainty of life seems to compel him to make a home base. A safe place. A recharging space. It’s healthy and good. And I need to do that.
I stashed a favorite painting behind the bedroom door when we arrived here. I think it needs to see the light of day. And perhaps I should dig a few family photos out of boxes to sprinkle about the room.
Oh yes… I believe it’s time.
~ ~ ~ Rangers Lead The Way ~ ~ ~ thank you, my dear.