Awaiting Spring

I am curled up on my couch, snuggled under blankets, fighting cabin fever with a novel, eagerly awaiting the arrival of spring. In these early days of March, it feels as if warm weather will never arrive. But as I force myself to think of sunshine and flowers and evening bonfires, I’m reminded that the season of renewal also marks the anniversary of the purchase of our first home, something we weren’t sure would ever happen.

I remember sitting in my husband’s car in the alley behind his parents’ house, talking for hours about our future plans – get married, buy a house of our own, travel. I remember sighing in frustration at dreams that we wanted to come true so badly but felt unobtainable.

And I remember all the seemingly small steps we took to work towards that day when we signed our names dozens of times and were handed keys to an empty house that needed some TLC. I remember a refrigerator full of nothing but ketchup and beer, and a dog who was wary of his new residence, especially the hardwood floors. I think about the ugly curtains we replaced with modern ones, and the scraggly bushes that were sacrificed for a petite Japanese maple tree. I think about my husband building a fence for the backyard, and smile when I remember how excited our dog was when he realized he could run freely. Every year we have bonfires with our friends, roasting marshmallows, sipping drinks, and laughing til our stomachs hurt late into the night. I think about our annual Halloween parties in our unfinished basement, our fresh cut Christmas trees we decorate every year, and the hundreds of hockey games we’ve watched in our tiny living room.

Sometimes I curse over vacuuming and dusting, over costly and unexpected repairs, or projects that don’t go as planned. Sometimes I stare at the “to do” list on the fridge, wondering if we’ll ever be able to afford a new bathroom or when exactly we’ll install a new front door.

But then I think back to the days when the walls were unpainted and bare, when I still felt like I was sleeping in a stranger’s bedroom and using someone else’s appliances. I think about how now my room is cozy and calming, and my most favorite place in the house. I think about all the peaceful nights when I sleep soundly, thankful for what I have, and dream about everything yet to come.

Stacy Alderman is a life-long Pittsburgher who has loved to write for as long as she can remember. She has completed two correspondence courses with The Institute of Children’s Literature and self-published two novels in 2016, both of which are available on Amazon and Kindle. She maintains her own blog on WordPress, Quirky, Confused, & Curvy.  When Stacy’s not writing, she’s probably reading. And if she’s not doing either of those two things, she’s probably watching Penguins hockey or (thinking about) traveling. She lives in Munhall with her husband and fur kid.