home improvement

One very openly miserable thing about widowhood is making every decision solo that you used to make as a team. The house has been the hardest part of that.

Jordan was a handy guy. A carpenter. A mechanic. An engineer. He left a lot of half finished projects around, and a lot of unfulfilled visions. Since he died, I’ve made some of our planned improvements to the house, and solved some problems that arose in his absence. Each has sucked in it’s own way, but has also provided the “opportunity” for “growth.”

The first winter after he died, the huge avocado tree in the back yard followed him into the abyss and I had to have it removed. In its stead, I planted a new one, plus an apple and a lemon tree, a row of native hedges, and a smattering of other native and low water plants. I also moved the shed to the big concrete pad (since a certain princess of a dog had been working diligently to dig out the gravel-based foundations for some reason), completely changing the flow of the yard. I felt comfortable tackling this one on my own, the yard had long been my domain and while it took me a minute to make some placement decisions, the core of the project felt well within my abilities.

After that, I added a mini-split system to the house. It was on our list to add them after the new windows Jordan had installed in 2022 to improve the comfort of the house. I had repeated meltdowns during the entire process. Getting quotes. Evaluating quotes. Picking a contractor. Making demands of the contractor. Dealing with install day while managing three dogs. But it ended, the mini-splits are great, and I think it all went fine? He probably would have made some different decisions regarding the specifics of the install, and he absolutely would have fixed the hole in the wall from the gas heater faster than it was fixed, but I don’t think I did so badly in making a home improvement on my own.

By the time I installed the solar last fall, I was feeling more confident in making decisions about the house on my own, but I still had several meltdowns. The quotes were easy. Deciding felt like something I could handle. Install day was easy (it was all outside). The solar has been amazing. Combined with the mini-splits I’ve been enjoying a very comfortable summer. But confronting another project without him was crushing. Again.

All in all, making these decisions on my own has sucked, even the ones I felt confident in. Making them for the home we bought together with the intention of improving and making ours has sucked. Being here, alone, in the house he died in has, at times, sucked.

But over the last few months, I’ve been painting, revamping rooms, buying myself flowers, making myself fancy meals, culling possessions, and generally building my confidence in being fully independent, after an entire adult life of being part of a partnership. It’s been fucking awful, but I’m doing it. I’m scratching out a solo life that I not only don’t fully hate, but sometimes even enjoy. I’m turning what was supposed to be our house into my house, and while that often hurts, it’s been worthwhile. I do love my house, and I am learning to honor all the memories I’ve made and will continue make here – the good and the painful.

But whenever I can afford to redo the kitchen, I fully expect to cry every day. Probably multiple times a day.