Love and Hydraulics


I apologize in advance for putting this song in your head.  But I’ve had to live with it through the two weeks it has taken to lift our house to where it belongs (can you name the tune?).  It has actually drowned out the endlessly looping hold music that typically haunts me for hours after I hang up the phone.  This week, one of the more stressful strings of days since the storm, Joe Cocker and Jennifer Warnes actually superseded Selene Finance with their, well, uplifting chorus: “Love lift us up where we belong.”

It has.

And that’s what did it: Love.  And hydraulics.  Our house is all the way up plus some.  When the first floor is built and our house is lowered onto the walls, we will be exactly where we belong.  Well, at least our house will.  Looks like we may have a few months to go.

I looked up the lyrics.

The road is long, there are mountains in our way/

But we climb a step every day.

Hills of red tape, mountains of months, whole ranges of paperwork.

Some hang on to “used to be,”

Live their lives, looking behind

It used to be so easy.  It used to be that we could go home at the end of a night.  It used to be that we could run races.  Enjoy the city we are so fortunate to live near.  Visit an old friend upstate.  Put a load of laundry in the washer, make lunch, and transfer the sheets to the dryer all in the same hour.   Let Lucy out.  Bake everyone’s favorite pumpkin squares.  Pick a cucumber from the side of our house, and slice it on a counter.  Enter the season for flats and fish them out of the closet while conveniently putting away my sandals in the same twenty-minute span.  Grab a hammer.  DVR something.

All we have is here and now

Here and now is this:  NY Rising losing our paperwork.  Insurance dropping us.  Our mortgage company selling our loan while still holding $19,000 of our insurance payout.  Joblessness.  The passing of yet another projected completion date.  And a sack of spring/fall shoes, in some storage space somewhere we failed to note because we believed it would not matter.  We’d be all unpacked and in by autumn.

But there are also gifts in the here and now.  I have noticed that as the simple ones become harder to see for all the crap in the way, we have begun receiving exceptional gifts that cannot be overlooked.  Love continues to lift us up.

All our life, out there to find.

We had thought about our life.  We appreciated it.  Without children, we would focus on our relationship with each other, friends and family, and the world.  We would have long talks over long dinners, have gatherings at our house, and travel.  We would have many educations, many incarnations.  We’d read books.  Write books.   Learn something new:  woodworking, French.  Become something new:  an Interfaith Minister, a mixologist.  And we would give.   We would always give.

Since October 29, 2012, all that has been on hold.  When we return, how much more will there be to find?  What new treasures will the sea have left us?  For many years to come, we will be beachcombing.  What new perspective will our new heights bring us?  For many years, we will be searching the skies, all our life out there to find.

Love lift us up where we belong

Far from the world we know, up where the clear winds blow

OK, that part was just to make sure I leave you with that song in your head.

May the clear winds blow your way.




One response to “Love and Hydraulics

  1. Wow! That is awesome. How about I throw it back at ya with a little Ripple in Still Water…may your waters be still when you need them and filled with ripples (good ripples man!!) when you need them. The ironies just continue to amaze me! Hang in there…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s