Anyone who’s talked to Leah since we made the decision to move to a new house (and even before then) knows that this has been a very emotional time for her. She’s very attached to our old house, particularly because she was close to the woman who lived there for 70 years.
Well, this morning, in what must surely be a sign from whatever deity you think is wandering the skies (or the Earth’s core), we quite unexpectedly learned a bit about the family that built the house we’re moving to.
The electricians showed up at about 7:30 this morning to start work, and I met them there. We were talking about replacing some wall sconces that are original to the house, and one issue we identified was the small switches at the bottom of the units, which need to be replaced. So the electrician called down to the shop to have someone come out with a couple new switches. Leah, Ava, and I were standing near the car, getting ready to leave, when the guy showed up from the shop. The electrician working at the house came over to show me the switch, then mentioned in an offhand way as he motioned back toward the fellow from the shop, “His parents built this house.”
It was like Leah had just watched all of Steel Magnolias, Harold and Maude, and The Color Purple in about two seconds; a wave of emotion came over her, and she immediately began to relate to Larry — the guy from the shop — how eager she’s been to learn more about the people who had lived in this house. He was very gracious and friendly, even giving Leah his cell number in case she had any questions about the house. It was a very serendipitous occasion, and I think it went a long way toward calming (some of) Leah’s anxiety about living in a new house. Thank you, Larry!