Maybe you are not one of those people who look back. More power to you my friend. I, on the other hand, look back. Maybe it was the influence of my dad, who had seen his share of days before I was even a glimmer in the eye. Maybe it's just the way I am. For me, starting this blog is my way of looking back to look forward. Do I want to mull over the past forever? No. But I am not willing to dismiss it out of hand and say, "what's done is done" and not try to understand the hurt either.
I often think of this process as a wound. When you are first wounded you don't want to touch that spot! Not with a 10 ft pole! You do your best to keep it clean, well cared for and let it heal. There will come a day when you might touch that wounded spot with tender fingers… just testing it's ability to take that gentle probing. But it's a long time before you can point to that wound as a scar and tell the tale. In the beginning it's just to painful. I think I'm in the gentle probing stage. Some of the pain is gone… maybe even most, but if it's pressed too hard the tears still flow.
It's not just about a house, by the way. It's about dreams lost. Broken. Not just dreams of a lovely house in the foothills of CO… no, that dream had a twin, very different in temperament, but born at the same time and it's name was VERGE.