Over the past year, I feel like I’ve been falling apart. A year ago, my basement started flooding. I paid $25,000 to waterproof it, and I didn’t even get to see the end result. I went through the stress of selling my house and moving out while the basement work was being done. I heard somewhere that when a caterpillar is in the cocoon, at some point it turns to liquid. Talk about falling apart. Tonight marks two weeks in my new house. I’m rebuilding, but that swirling liquid I’ve become brings experiences from my past to the surface. I was sick for a couple of days here, and the one day I spent in bed, dozing on and off throughout an entire day, my mom visited me in dreams, and I had a long conversation with her. In my waking moments, I had to figure out where I was, and remember that my mom was no longer living. Everything is oozing around me, and I feel like I’ve been on vacation. The fact is that everything has changed. I won’t return to my home of 30 years. This is my home now, and I’m healing. I’m recouperating. One of those layers of liquid is when I used to move around…. In my 20’s… I used to leave a place and go someplace else, never putting down roots. I had deep roots by the time I left my old house. I said many times that I wouldn’t leave there until they carried my dead body out. I didn’t realize that there were still adventures awaiting me. Life holds surprises. My plans and expectations slip through my fingers, and after anguishing over many decisions, I find myself here in a new town, a new house, facing new adventures. I find myself blinking in the sunlight, and I might not even realize I’m drying my big beautiful new wings in the sun.