Feathering my nest

I've been on a wild tear to improve my home's appearance lately. We've installed new lights in the kitchen and entry, and purchased a new couch and new dining room chairs. We bought 2 new area rugs; one for the entry and one for the back hall. We've hung up artwork that was framed months ago. I'm repainting our living room from a Wedgewood blue to a robin's egg blue in honor of spring and new beginnings. My list of projects is long and I've barely finished checking an item as done before I've moved on to the next task.

You need to understand that this isn't my normal mode. I am not a shopper or spend thrift - except when it comes to books and plants (every rule needs an exception, right?). I don't make home decor decisions easily or quickly. My haste should have me feeling anxious but it's not. I recognize my need to change my surroundings visually and physically to reflect my spiritual and mental return to life. The sooner the better, too.

You see, I've been caught in suspended animation for 3 1/2 years, the length of my mom's terminal and unpredictable illness. Decisions, commitments and career pursuits were put on hold so that I could spend as much time as remained with my mom. It was my choice and I'll never regret it. I miss my mom terribly but ironically, her death 7 weeks ago gave my life new life. I accept this gift without guilt. I know my mom would not begrudge me this new freedom, paid for at a very dear price.

I know life will dish out pain and loss again but I'm not dwelling on the inevitable. Instead, I'm turning my attention to light-hearted pursuits with the full knowledge that my outwardly frivolous activities mask my very personal and difficult struggle to emerge anew.