My Story Chapter Eight

            I guess this brings us to the fall of 2007 and as happy I was to see to the familiar sites of my hometown, it also brought a certain sadness to see the leaves on the trees already falling and knowing that I had to wait through a long and frigid winter before seeing summer again. Eric had a surprise waiting for me at home though, so I brightened up the minute I came in house. While I was hospitalized he remodeled the downstairs middle room into a temporary bedroom for me. When we first bought the 110 year old house back in ’97 the large room was a dining area with original chair rails, hanging chandelier, and sitting porch off the side. Tragically, previous homeowners had painted over the original wood many, many, many times making it was completely unsalvageable, the light fixture was reduced to a center piece of glass with one lonesome bulb and the porch was falling down like much of the house.

            Our original plan had been to remodel the 12 room 2 story house ourselves and make it our own little palace. We had been renting small apartments and tiny houses for years and were thrilled to finally have all that space. Being able to actually buy it was like a dream come true for us. It didn’t even have the proper electricity hookups when we started. But Eric had a knack for knowing how to do a little of everything and what he didn’t know he learned by reading it in a book. The only help we ever hired was an electrician to put in the service entrance and breaker box. We did everything together little by little, always excited about the next project, usually waiting for one us to get paid to start on it. We even tore off the dilapidated front porch which ran the entire length of the house shingle by shingle and board and board. Eric climbed a ladder, used a crowbar, and tossed the pieces down to me where I waited with the wheel barrel to load it up and make the long trek up to the back of the yard to burn the old building materials. We even built two additions. Both were made where the old porches were. Today one is my walk-in closet the other a full bathroom downstairs.

            Of course, all of our dreams came to halt after I broke my neck. Luckily, we did most of our work on downstairs but it is far from finished.  As far as I know, the upstairs is used mostly for storage except for one room. It’s Eric’s private haven. And as much as I hate to admit it I can’t help but obsess about what goes on up there. Talk to anyone in wheelchair and they will tell you that they too wonder what is at top of the stairs and wish with every ounce of their being that they could traverse them.

            Also, it was another long, cold and lonely winter. Eric never once got romantic with me. The closest he got to me was a peck a cheek, head or if I was lucky quick closed mouth kiss on the lips. If I brought up the subject of lovemaking he would say when he wasn’t so tired, when we got more help, or when his back felt better. It was always something but I so drugged up at time I took it in stride. Sometimes he would offer to get in bed with me and hold me and I refused because it made me feel trapped when he fell asleep with his arm pinning me down on my side. Talk about regret, I couldn’t feel more remorse about those lost opportunities. If only he would offer now …