Remodeling a house is a good metaphor for life.
Things like counter height, the swing of the cabinet doors, the give in the drawers, and the angles of the sink all feel physically different. I yank, pull, push, and place, and I’m constantly banging into things or missing. It is all better in both looks and functionality, but it just doesn’t fit yet. Plus, it’s still not finished and I haven’t unpacked.
Each time I put something on the counter, it feels different. The barest fraction of an inch has that much impact on the experience of motion in the kitchen. I’ve gone from tile to quartz counter tops, so the coffee cup makes a loud, stone-on-stone smack because there’s so much momentum behind the cup when it lands. My hand hasn’t slowed down yet because I expect the counter to be lower. It’s such a small thing, but it makes such a difference. The same with the cabinet doors; the cabinets extend further, but there are three doors instead of two, and the doors are shorter. So, I yank them open with more force than necessary for their swing. I fear they will break off.
This remodeling is a lot like a new chapter in life. I don’t care about losing the old doors or the old counter top. I’m glad to be rid of them. Still, there are many things I miss about this version of my old life, and all the other old lives I’ve left behind with each remodeling. There are some things that I don’t care about, but I do miss. There are some things that I do care about but I don’t want in my house, yet they are harder to let go of. And some things, those that are gone and missed and difficult to release…well…