I Painted A Room

At week 5 of these unprecedented stay at home orders due to Corona Virus Pandemic 2020, I decided I would take on the highly ambitious task of painting my daughter’s room. This may not seem like such a big deal to those of you who have painted a room or several before, but for me, a new widow, who was married to a man who did absolutely everything remotely tied to home repairs for our entire adult lives together, this was a monumental task. For me to even consider painting a room prior to this very week in time was just, well just not even a thought. For the past year, since Glenn died on December 9th 2018 at 11:55 pm(just flows out of my brain forever), my grief has consumed me. My grief took all of my energy or what little energy I had left after working full time, taking over the household in every aspect from bills, the paperwork of death, meals, car repairs, raising 3 teenage daughters and ALL that goes along with that. Leaving myself some corners of time to cry, yell, scream, flounder, drop to my knees, get up again and repeat, yup, Grief consumed me.

So this week, I dug my heels in, watched a few you tube videos: #1 how to prep a room for painting, #2 what kind of brush and technique to use for edging and cutting, #3 how to properly roll out a wall and what type of nap my roll should have. I decided I could do this, and here is why…. The stay at home orders, the loss of my job temporarily, has given me the greatest gift since Glenn died…time and space to breathe, to think, to imagine, to create, to actually believe I can do something that I have never done, that I probably would never even choose to think about doing, because it was not what I did, it was what Glenn did and quite frankly, he was damn good at it, leaving me absolutely no reason for wanting to do it. But yet here I am, this week, 16 months after my husband left this earth FAR TOO SOON, deciding I could paint a room.

So allow me to share some thoughts on painting a room. Stream of consciousness here we go…… tedious, arduous, requiring copious amounts of patience, focus Then, something begins to occur, my college brain kicks in, I recall the process that Csikszentmihalyi coined FLOW, I remember Glenn always played music when he painted, I put music on, I feel an immediate connection to Glenn, its as if he is standing behind me, guiding me with his wisdom. ” Not too fast Michelle, slow down, don’t get sloppy, pay attention to detail, don’t rush”, Breathe, he is with me, he is either proud or just plain goofing on me, “Sure now you decide to help? “. The years of me watching, handing him the damp rag to wipe off the small droplets that got away, moving the tray along as he made his way through the room. It all makes perfect sense right now in this moment, yes this was work, but it was also his relaxation, escape from the constant demands of his job, us, everybody wanting something from him all the time. Here in this room, he could shut off, get lost in the labor of love for his family, his daughters. He could shine as our proud caretaker, Fixer, giving us the gift of his time and talents. Glenn did this year after year, his contributions to us are in every inch of our home. Every wall that has been painted and re-painted because his wife needed a change, every picture and shelf(that he made of course) that is hung on these painted walls, every nail in every project, from counters to decks, Glenn leaves us his legacy, his imprint on our lives, his soul lives on, he will always be our provider. I don’t have to seek his guidance, it simply presents itself as I attempt to tackle the tasks that he so selfishly and lovingly performed during our life together on this earth. I am grateful in this moment, as I paint a room, as I recall Glenn’s gifts, as I feel his presence and essence all around me,flowing through me, he is here, but of course, keep going Michelle, you have this, missed a spot, got it, paint on….