There is a reliable course I follow to settle back into home following a hospitalization.
First, I unpack. If I do not unpack immediately, it can take weeks. It is so unsatisfying to spend two weeks procrastinating unpacking, finally unpack, and then have to leave again. Better to get it out of the way. In this, I erase all traces that we were gone. I restock suitcase items as needed, put away the suitcase, the bags, and move on. I take the same approach with Peter’s things.
Second, I go on the rampage. I am a territorial woman and my home is no exception. It is best for my husband to be gone when this takes place. It usually looks and feels quite angry. I go about the house putting everything just as I like it, react strongly when things are out of place and look like a madwoman. I do not care how the house is kept when I am gone, but this process is cathartic for me. I come out satisfied, like winning a fight. The house it turned back. It is mine again. All traces of my husband as the housekeeper are gone.
Third, I buy flowers. I arrange flowers. This time, sweet peas are in bloom at my mother’s. I cut a large batch. My six-year-old surprised me with a sweet bouquet because she sees how I love them. We are lucky if I stop at three arrangements. I could do more.
Fourth, I take the kids on an adventure. Today we went to the Farmer’s Market. I could not resist an arrangement of roses and eucalyptus from Kelley Flower Farm.
I added Jupiter’s Beard and Dusty Miller to make it mine. We sampled everything that was not pure sugar. I bought a Jack London book at the book sale. We stopped at a Barn Sale on the way. It was gloriously reckless.
And now I am home. It is mine. I am reestablishing my authority with the kids, and my friendship. I look around and see not just the house I left, but the home I continue to create. My heart is full of gratitude and joy. In these perfectly imperfect moments, my heart has never felt so full.