Finding my new normal
A new deck cover. What does it mean? The old one was tatty and torn. The metal frame was held up by rebar. A new one is exciting and beautiful. Shiny and clean. It even has screening if I want it.
A few weeks ago, you came to help put up my new deck cover. Let’s be real: You came to put up my deck cover while I watched and did small things to help. You were thorough. You looked at all the pieces, and you figured out that the deck is actually smaller than the deck cover. “No problem,” you said. You adjusted things, made a new foot outside the deck for one of the legs. You removed the aging corner curio (who needs a curio outside?) to make room for the new deck cover. You warned me that you had to cut some of the metal bars facing the house because the corners were so tight against the house.
When it came time to put the cloth cover on, you worried. You worried that if the cloth wasn’t tight enough, it would blow away. Yet putting the cloth against the cut metal bars would cut the cloth, and you didn’t want to put the cloth at risk. You were concerned for the item that I bought.
You came up with a brilliant idea of putting 1/2-lacrosse-balls in the corners and edge where you had cut the metal bars. It was tricky trying to get them in. I helped where you asked me, using bars to leverage the frame against the ball half, trying to wedge it against the cut bar. It was a challenge for you to get the balls in place. When one ball was in place and you tried to put another one in, the first ball fell out.
You thought about it some more. You decided to take the balls home and create caverns in them so that the cut metal bars would fit more easily. You said you were coming back.
The installation of the cloth cover shouldn’t have taken very long. Maybe an hour? But with the tricky part of my house being so close and the cut metal bars posing a risk, you have already spent over 2 hours on this task.
To say I am grateful is an understatement. I’m amazed. I’m amazed that you took so much time for me, working to figure this out and making it right. I am amazed you don’t give up and the gears in your mind keep turning and working to figure out the best way to solve this challenge.
My anxious parts are deep channels for the synapses in my mind. You might say they’re cavernous in spots. For 25 years, I was anxious any time a house project happened. From changing a lightbulb to retiling a bathroom, there was always stress involved. I was never the main performer of the work but I was always there as an assistant. I was always asked to grab tools, find things, hold spots, and hold the flashlight. Holding the flashlight was the worst. I couldn’t tell where the light was going or where the best light was going. To my partner, it seemed OBVIOUS. How could I be so stupid? Tensions always ran high, and I never knew what to expect. If I didn’t know where the tool was, or I brought the wrong tool, or I just looked wrong – it was as if the fact that a project was going differently than it perfectly looked on the box it was ALL MY FAULT. After 25 years of that, I started to believe it, and it has been tricky for me to relax and allow new projects to happen while I am a part (even a small part) of the effort.
I also remember another partner in my life who made the promise of big projects. I bought the materials, provided my intentions, and nothing happened. I waited and got frustrated. I wondered if I should just hire someone myself. In the end, I did hire someone to do the tasks I was promised to receive.
So having you here just doing your thing, for me, is nothing short of amazing. In someone else’s world, they might just call it normal. So I am grateful for the new normal.
