Renovation of the Heart
by Teri Merrill
As we perused the rows of tile
and granite, my husband leaned over to me and whispered “I have a headache. Are
we almost done?” Here was a man who had successfully managed health care
systems for decades, yet an hour into choosing our new kitchen countertops, and
he was exhausted.
We were in the middle of
renovations for an older ranch house that we had purchased four years earlier
and rented out, always with the intention of moving in someday. Or should I say
it was always my intention. My husband was never fully on board with what I
thought was a brilliant plan.
You see, he loved our “big”
house and its 11 years of memory making with our children, relatives, friends, and dogs. He cherished the times we sat on the front porch, wine glasses in
hand, watching for the first sign of bats as they emerged on summer nights. We
both loved the gardens we planted and maintained, and the ever-changing bulbs,
flowers, and bushes that were blooming during three seasons of the year.I loved that house too. But
my North Star is practicality, and as our children grew up and flew the nest, I
couldn’t stop hearing the quiet, empty spaces, or noticing the knick-knacks
gathering dust, or looking at the stairs with trepidation. All three levels of
the house were starting to feel a bit more cumbersome and a lot less
comfortable. Not for my husband, though. He’s a creature of habit, and his
routine for the past decade was cemented into the foundation of that place.
The ranch house that we
bought had been built in 1980, and very little had been updated since that
time. Nevertheless, I could feel the calm emanating from its well-worn
hominess. The property is in town, on a hill and next to a woods, and I could
imagine us sitting in the backyard, wine glasses in hand, watching for the
first sign of bats as they emerged on summer nights.
Despite his misgivings, my
husband agreed to the timeline of renovating the house in the fall of 2020,
with a move-in date in mid-spring the next year. Most of the world was in lockdown or homebound due to the pandemic, so renovating a house during this time seemed to be
a perfect project for a newly retired professional who used to fill his 24-hour
day schedule with 48 hours of work. I figured he would crush our timeline in
half with his prior business schedule. Every week brought new
decisions and “homework” from our contractor, from researching products, to
reading customer reviews, to visiting showrooms, and perusing websites. My
husband honestly didn’t enjoy the process and left many of the decisions to me,
unless it was absolutely necessary to get his buy-in.
That, of course, left me a
nervous wreck. We have renovated rooms over the years, but never an entire
house. I would wake in the night, going over my tile or ceiling fan or bathroom
vanity or flooring choices, only to panic and change everything the next
morning. I would talk to our contractor for ideas, but often decisions were
just “gut” choices that felt right.
We were lucky that very few
purchases were delayed due to the supply chain slowdown. We were very lucky
that our contractor brilliantly anticipated decisions and ensured that the
project was constantly moving forward, and not sitting stagnant for days and
weeks, as so many projects do. We were lucky that our big home sold quickly. We
were lucky that we had time and could move many smaller items on our own, so
that when the big moving day came, only the large items were left.
Turns out, renovating wasn’t
the challenge after all—reshaping our future was. Less than a week after our
move, my husband was drinking coffee and walking through the house, taking it
all in and commenting on how easy the house is to live in. “You were right,” he
acknowledged. “This is a great house.” As my chin hit the floor, I realized
even a husband’s heart can be renovated!
Now we are enjoying our beautiful
downsized home, which feels perfectly right-sized to us. The gardens in front
and the woods at the rear beckon us each day. Oh, and those bats…it’s just about
time to bring out the wine glasses and spot the first one of the evening. Teri
