Here's one memory that probably will never leave me, but still good to share.
(It was less painful to write this in third person....distances myself a bit. ;) )
The Fireplace Saga
Once upon a time, in a charming little neighborhood, a young couple bought their first house. The open house flyer described it as a "doll house."
And despite the avocado cabinets,
various shades of shag carpet,
and the colorful slate tile scattered around the house,
the couple signed their life away and moved in.
There was much updating to be done. Wallpaper, floors, cabinets, etc.
But there was one particular aspect of the house the husband could not tolerate.
The painted brick fireplace.
"What was wrong with it?" thought the wife. "Yes, it would be nice if the brick was back to its original state. But with the right decor, it would be fine.
Plus there were so many other projects to do...."
But the husband could wait no longer. The hideous white brick had to go. It must be restored to its natural beauty.
So on December 17, 2001 (or so, the wife isn't sure on the exact date, but is certain she had only one more week before Christmas), while the wife started her week at school, the husband, reassuring his wife how simple and quick this would be, set to work.
The night before in preparation, he built a "tent." So confident he could keep the dust contained in this "tent," he uncharacteristically asked his wife to take this picture.
"This tent would contain the dust brought in by the sand blaster," he promised.
His wife, knowing her dear husband had researched extensively before undertaking this project, was still leery of the tent. So at her request, he assured her he would cover all their belongings with tarps for extra assurance.
Monday morning, the wife wished her husband luck, and went off to work. As you may have guessed, the project was not as simple as the dear husband planned it to be.
The wife is unclear on ALL the details that unfolded that day, but here are a few of the obstacles he encountered:
-The rental store only had a larger sand blaster available.
One that had to be pulled by a truck.
One that was normally used for bridges.
Yes, you read that right.....BRIDGES.
-The dear husband ran out of sand....twice.
TWICE.
Hundreds of pounds of sand.
HUNDREDS.
And STILL wasn't able to remove all the paint.
-The beloved tent?
Failure.
FAIL.
Too painful for the wife to say much more on this.
-The promised tarps, for added assurance?
Nowhere to be found.
Forgotten?
This remains a mystery.
And a sore subject.
Very sore subject.
The school day came to an end much quicker than the dear husband planned.
His wife had arrived home before he could warn her about what she was about to encounter. He saw her car pull into the driveway. He tried to meet her at the front door before she entered, but his beloved "tent" was in the way. So as he worked his way around the house from the back door, his wife stood at the door in horror at what her eyes were seeing.
The only thoughts she remembers repeating over and over were, "I'm going to kill him. Or at least inflict lots of pain. No, I'm going to kill him." There was no piece of furniture, book, ledge, or crevice that was not covered in ashy, dark dust.
Everything, EVERYTHING, looked like it had been through a fire or a sooty sand storm.
There was no room to enter through the front door, so the wife went around back only to run into her beloved husband in the driveway.
(This is where, what could only be described as divine intervention occurred.Something out of character happened.)
You see, the dear wife has a temper. When left to her own devices, she's not very patient. She has difficulty letting go of grudges.
But when she saw her husband, wearing the gas/dust mask around his neck, his face plastered with the same ashy, dark soot she had just seen, except for the large circles around his eyes from where the mask was, she got this uncontrollable urge to laugh. The kind of laugh where you can't speak. That brings tears...and the fear you're going to pee your pants.
She was overwhelmed with a sense of how ridiculously funny all this was and an empathy at how tortured her husband looked at the thought of his wife coming home to all of it.
There is no doubt God intervened that day.
Real tears and anger still came, but they remained tempered with the fact at how funny it all was.
Friends also helped soften the blow.
She'll always remember being told that this event will be a pivotal moment in her marriage. How she decides to react and handle it will contribute to which direction her relationship will go.
Then those wise dear friends came over and helped wash every ledge, dish, glass, book, window...until the dear couple's house felt almost new.
And one week later, the couple was able to decorate for Christmas.
The first Christmas in their home.
And even more remarkable, they were even speaking to one another.
For several years, the fireplace was left untouched.
Today, 9 years later, the fireplace looks like this.
Beautiful.
Full of memories.
(And do you see the sand blasted brick peeking through?)
Yep, it's also loaded with personal lessons.
This doll house has character, but within the lives of its inhabitants, it's built a lot of character as well.
