The Rising

We are permitted.

Finally, after nearly two and a half years, our house project has the green light.  Layers of regulation have been met, fees have been assessed. Now, things will roll. Or surely shall soon -- my mantra.

Would my ancestors cheer? Most of whom never owned a home. Ownership was not common, historically, at least not amongst common people. I can't even picture how my father's immigrant parents lived, in America, in the early part of the twentieth century. I'm told they were inner-city poor, but how did that look? Did they ever enjoy the comfort of a soft sofa, or an easy chair? Was anything ever easy for them, at all? Or for our presumably peasant forebearers before them?

I never knew those grandparents, and heard little of their lives, much less their hardships. My relationship to them was more historical fact than feeling. Yet where would I be without their fortitude? I wouldn't BE, at all.  Not that they did it for me -- but they must have had some sense of the future, to have endured so much and worked so hard, as poor people all did in those times, just to survive.  Something kept them going, raising children who grew up and out of the poverty that was all they ever knew.

My car is certainly grander than anything my immigrant grandparents ever owned. They never had a car, of course, but even their best home furnishings were likely less comfortable. And they could not have imagined an afternoon like mine, last week. My six month old smart car decided it was time for a servicing, so tele-contacted the dealer. I just had to drop it off and was escorted home, leaving it for its spa day. A few hours later, I was ushered back, to find it nicely attended and cleaned. Everyone was lovely to me and I drove it home feeling loved and special in my pumpkin coach.

My parents were not poor, and I grew up in a home that they owned, outright. But they were frugal people, who lived simply and saved. They could have spent more on themselves, and their surroundings, but chose practical, reasonable comfort, not luxury. Dad would not have wanted to even hear about upscale finishes; mom would be shocked at the prices. Neither would have allowed such extravagance.

But this is us.  This is now.
And we are permitted.