We only lived there together for a few months.
I loved that little place with the three small bedrooms upstairs,
where you hit your head on the ceiling,
where there was no closet space.
dirty stairs and grease stained cabinets.
it was home.
But then we had to go to New York City and start a new life on the upper West side in a brownstone.
and my daughter slept on a pull out couch in the front room for 6 months
and we slept in the back bedroom where you could hear the neighbor practice her piano
and we watered the upstairs neighbor's plants while she was away
and had dinners with 80 year old Harmon Ashley.
he loved to hear my daughter laugh.
And there was a young lady, back in Utah.
and she was hurting ,and she needed a quiet place to stay...
So while we were in NY, starting our new life,
We let her stay in our home..our beloved home.
And she stayed there for a couple of weeks, and she told us it was the most peaceful place she had been and she thanked us.
And we were glad to serve her.
So we went back to Utah after the summer in NY to tie up loose ends there...it was a strange time in our lives.
And we walked in our beloved home and we noticed
small things like
popcorn on the floor
furniture in odd places
dirt there that wasn't there before.
I was angry.
She took advantage of our hospitality and I was angry.
don't you know that you leave the place better than what you found it?
At least that is what my mother taught *me*.
and i felt violated, like i opened my heart and it got trampled on.
but my wise husband said:
"that's the chance you take when you share your home with someone."
and i never forgot those wise words.
for that is what happens when we open ourselves up: we take the chance it might get messy, that we might get hurt.