06/26

my week of living alone, cardboard boxes, & grad parties.

June— halfway through the year, beginning the summer, & often one of the busiest months of the year for my family. In the space in between working full-time and preparing the house both to be sold & to host a party, I tried to find snatches of time to myself. At times I succeeded, happily journalling about my goals for the coming school year or painting my nails, but often the breaks were reserved for staring into space or listening to a video essay online. I try not to feel guilty over it; after all, with how packed the rest of my life has been, it’s nice to be able to choose to spend time in something inconsequential. I paint & watch soap operas, and it’s relaxing in its own way.

My week of living alone

My younger siblings finished the speech & debate season with a bang, making their way to Minnesota for the National Championship. All three of the current competitors, along with both parents, flew out one Saturday evening. I & the two youngest girls stayed at home for all of Sunday (we celebrated Corpus Christi with donuts & bouncing on the trampoline) until their grandparents came to pick them up at noon on Monday. The house was empty— mine, I guess.

Being the introvert I am, I enjoyed the solitude for a couple evenings. When I came home from work, buzzing with the energy that always floods me as soon as I clock out, I would flutter around the house doing dishes and singing. I relished watching my own TV shows at night and the creative outflowing I felt. But although I enjoy time alone & need it to recharge, I am also used to a large family, and I relish quality time & conversation. Before long the house felt like a tomb to drive back to after work. I ate chicken alfredo for four nights, reheating the single batch that kept me fed, and thought longingly of the way we would have had to double the recipe just to feed my entire family for one meal. I went to bed early every night, finally catching up on sleep but mostly because the house was so quiet at night that I couldn’t bear it. I had friends over one night, when I felt like the glamorous hostess, but after they left the house echoed twice as emptily.

My raggedy old cat did his best to keep me company in the evenings.

I was overjoyed when my grandparents returned the little girls & when, that evening, the rest of the family arrived fresh from the airport. We stayed up talking until the early hours of the morning, and I was left reflecting: this summer I’ve felt the chafing need for my own space, for somewhere I can decorate & manage & take care of all by myself. I had remembered the little apartment C & I had for our night in Paris with great nostalgic admiration. Where was my own little apartment? Where was my little balcony? Where was my own little kitchen, from which I could host dinners for my friends? I wanted it badly, yet I couldn’t even spend a week living alone without watching searching up sad music videos to cry to. Maybe the house, built for a family, was too large, and if it was smaller I would feel cozy enough; maybe it comes with more practice than a week. Either way, it cured my cramped feeling of living with my family over the summer. Someday I do want my own place, all set up & personal & stewarded, but for now, for this summer at least, I am still in the habit of a large family. Any space that isn’t shared feels too big.

Cardboard boxes

At the moment, most of my life is packed. One third is under the stairs back at college, left there in December; one third is packed in bags labeled “AVA TO COLLEGE;” one third is in our rented storage room, waiting to be moved into the new house. Which new house that will be isn’t yet decided; the neighborhood is, though, closer to work & friends, walkable & well-maintained. It should be good for our family, but for now we’re in high-stress mode, trying to balance packing with getting our own beautiful house ready to sell.

“Vintage books; barometer; bookshelf decor. FRAGILE!”

My current project, now that I’ve packed everything but one dresser’s worth, has been to help repaint the walls. We’ve finished the kitchen, the laundry room, the dining room, the master bathroom, and most of the downstairs family room, so not too much remains. Soon it’ll be back to paring down what belongings we keep out so that we can begin showing the house to prospective buyers. My closet is becoming smaller & smaller, but since I’m often either in my work uniform or my painting clothes, I don’t really feel the lack. What I do feel is a constant, mild stress over where exactly my things are & whether I’ll have what I need once I’m in school, but being without will be a good exercise for me, if it’s something that ends up happening. In the end I’m actually excited for the new neighborhood— I’m excited for the 20+ miles of hiking trails all around, for the coffee shop nearby, for the new gym membership. The work will be worth it, although right now I have paint in my hair.

Grad parties

J graduated high school & we celebrated by hosting a party in the backyard, attended by seventy guests & supplied with pounds of dinner mints. Although the day was chilly, the sun broke through for brief moments over our grill & heaps of sides. Family & friends had driven in hours to be with us, and groups sat around laughing for hours. The boys played football in the yard, whooping whether the ball was caught or fumbled. The smallest guests, along with my younger sisters, played pretend on the playset or jumped on the trampoline. The middle school girls sat & laughed & whispered in their party dresses. J & I sat with the older crowd, some of whom graduated when I did and some whose grad parties have already happened this summer or are happening soon. We relived old memories from highschool & made plans for new adventures.

Once the general crowd had gone home, the remaining ten or so ran to Safeway for snacks before settling in for a long night of board games & Quiplash. A few hours of laughing so hard I lost my voice, and talking with friends about all that we’d missed from each others’ lives while scattered across the world, and I was exhausted enough to turn in by four.

J & I are attending the same college in the fall, one he’s visited twice before. When we both lived at home we did everything together, reading the same school books & arguing over the same concepts. For two years I’ve missed him. Now that we’ll be living in the same place again, but on our own separate academic tracks, I can’t wait to see what we’ll get up to. I can’t wait to get home & chat about school & have someone there who knows exactly what I’m talking about. It’ll be strange— like transferring one world into another— but it’ll be amazing also. I’m happy that I’ll have my brother with me.

Praying that they’ve cleaned out all the black mold in the dorms before we get back.

+AMDG+

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