WHAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF

The other day, Michael made a loop around the block on his scooter and passed a house with a for sale sign in the front yard. He came home really excited about it, so we walked over to have a look. What's odd is that I had just been looking at the same house on Trulia. We decided to make an appointment to look at the inside of the house. Saturday evening, the three of us walked back over to the house to meet a realtor and look over the house. My first impression of the house is to slightly grimace. It is kind of a lime green color, but if I look at the house in black and white, I see the great big front porch. I see an open and inviting entry way. Inside there's beautiful hardwood floors, a huge kitchen and the quirkiest half bath I've ever seen. The second floor holds three bedrooms, but the best part is the sunroom off the main bedroom. This room has already been designated as the yoga room. There's a room in the basement that only lacks a wall of drywall to be finished, a laundry room next to it, and a door that leads to a garage that would hold both scooters and my car. Most of the things inside are all aesthetic fixes, some paint here, a picture there. There's a door from the kitchen that leads out onto a large deck that over looks a big backyard, one that is currently housing two chickens. Those two chickens were like a sign saying "this is your house". Needless to say we both want this house, even though we have nothing saved for a down payment and will need to scramble funds together to even attempt to make an offer. The idea of it has tied my stomach in nots.

It's funny how sometimes we imagine how are lives should be. You can can picture the movie version of your own life in your head. When we moved here, I imagined all the things Chris and I would do. I could see all the the changes we'd make to this house, the garden we'd build in the backyard, and the chickens we'd get together. I remember the dreams we'd talk about together, trips we wanted to make together. I could see us making those trips. I could see our happy life before us. When Chris died, my vision of my life changed. I no longer saw a life of two. Now it was a life of one. The changes I'd make to my house. The garden I'd build in the backyard. The chickens I'd get for the backyard. The trips I'd make. Single and solitary. This morning, I looked over at Michael and I could see our life together. I could see us doing boring things in that house. We'd still dance around each other in the kitchen, but this time the steps would be different because we'd have a larger dance floor. It would be so natural to walk down the stairs to the basement, carrying a basket of clothes, and see Michael sitting at table in his "man cave" putting a puzzle together. I can feel the sun flooding into that yoga room and I can see are own chickens pecking around a huge garden. This new vision of my life was so clear and filled me with so much joy. It eased that clenched feeling of panic I had about the house. This new vision is something I never imagined for myself.

It's not the house. It's the path my life has taken. At times it seems so surreal, so different from the original idea I had for my life, my life with Chris, my life alone. Yet not so different. The premise of the movie remains the same, it's just that the characters and the dialogue has changed. My visions are optimistic. All of them filled with joy and love, though the first and last more so than the middle one. Though I would have found joy in that solitary life, just in a different way. I'm still amazed at my luck. Who knows what will come of this house we want to buy. But for now I can just dream of things to come.