This rug.

I thought as I awoke this morning that the day would go as planned. We'd bring the whole family to hockey to watch Owen, return home for lunch and pass the day away by watching the NASCAR race. If you know us, you'll know that this is a Sunday custom in our family. Things were going off as planned. But then I went out to find a rug.

The rug we have in the mud room entrance has been stepped on far too many times to count. It was the entry way rug at our first house. I purchased it without even glancing at the price, from the Pottery Barn catalog. I was pleased with its appearance when it arrived via UPS a week later. It welcomed you into our home. Many of you stepped foot on it. Then we moved to Edina.

As I write this I am trying to recall where this rug was in our soon to be dream home. Ah, yes. I remember now. I placed it temporarily at the top of our stairs. It didn't go well there but I knew that we were planning to remodel soon and I would get a new rug. Then our plans changed and the rug stayed put. At the top of the stairs at the landing pad for the bedrooms. I remember a picture I took of Ryan sitting up on his own for the first time on that rug.



A year and a half crept by and we moved to our new house. This is house is five blocks away from our old one, it's in the same neighborhood but is much larger and more accessible for our new reality. The rug moved with us.

Because we owned two houses, we decided to move in without too much fanfare. No kitchen updates, no new tiled entryway, no remodeled guest bath, and no new rugs. We worked with what we had. To be honest I was so thrilled to be in this new house I got used to the questionable decor choices made by the previous owner. I painted a few rooms with my family's help and that was it.

Last week after a big snowfall I decided to run on the treadmill in my basement and watch the Nate Berkus show. I got inspired to "spruce up" my entryway. I looked around for things I already had that I could use in different places and had a plan. But this rug, this rug was not right. Is was the right size, but not the right color or style. 

I went searching today for another rug. I was convinced I'd find one at Target, nope. Tuesday Morning, nope. Marshall's, nope. JC Penney, nope. Macy's, nope. I came home defeated. Without a new rug. My whole attitude had changed. I was angry that the dishes weren't done, angry that the toys were everywhere and angry that I still had this same rug.

I know this rug looks perfectly acceptable in the mud room entry, but I'm done with it. I'm done with remembering where it used to be, who used to step on it and who doesn't step on it any longer. And I was done with it TODAY, not in a few weeks when I can afford to buy a new one from Pottery Barn or Crate and Barrel, I wanted it gone.

Now I sit on my ten year old couch and stare at that rug and I am fully aware what I am doing. This afternoon, I wanted to go out and pick exactly what I wanted and buy it, and throw away another piece of my old life. If I can't do it all at once, it will have to be a piece at a time. Things around me that remind me of how things were, are hard these days. 

I'm taking delivery of a wheelchair van this month to replace my other minivan, Dermot's wheelchair is getting an "upgrade" to a rigid shell rather than a soft molded seat, and my boy is getting too big. Too big for me to carry, almost too big for me to hold and too big for me to lift. All of this overwhelms me sometimes and I look for little things I can control or change, like the rug in the entryway. 

Grief visits me often and then it leaves. Hopefully the rug will leave soon too.

Comments

Anonymous said…
I discovered your blog about a month ago, and I was so touched and blown away that I read the entire thing in one sitting. Your precious Dermot sounds very similar to my Tyler, who is "undiagnosed". It's so comforting to read about emotions, thoughts, and fears so close to my own, and I just wanted to thank you for your words.

Popular posts from this blog

Note to my inner child.

What happened to you?

Letter to Dermot