The first spring after my divorce, my neighbor said, “you’re growing a forest up there,” pointing to my gutters. My heart sank. I told him that I was single now and had absolutely no idea how to clean gutters, let alone use a ladder.
He and his wife took pity on me and cleaned my gutters. I was eternally grateful, and the kids and I brought them a small plant and note to thank them.
The next year, the same neighbor hinted that he was going to clean them again for me – but I knew I had to do it myself, I couldn’t lean on them forever. So I took out the ladder and figured it out. It was messy, and smelly and actually a bit dangerous. But I did it, through gritted teeth.
I’ve never liked manual labor… and doing work like this inevitably brings up feelings of resentment, self-pity and anger. But I did it and I worked through it and I survived.
This year I couldn’t get to the gutters soon enough. I knew it needed to be done and I wanted to do it before my neighbor could say anything. Of course, it’s been raining nearly every day in Minnesota… and I’ve had the kids for three weeks straight, so no chance I could get out there by myself.
This morning was my first chance to tackle the job, and after seeing it was supposed to rain as early as seven, I downed half my latte and headed outside about 6:45. It was already light out, and I figured I could stay quiet enough not to wake my neighbors.
And I did it. I knew what I was doing, I was quick and efficient. In addition to all the leaves and helicopter seeds and smelly gunk, there was about two to three inches of standing water. It was… messy.
Yet I felt a huge sense of accomplishment when I pulled the last handful of gunk out of the gutter and the water, now free to flow, started rushing through the downspout and out the end. The sound of the water was beautiful and I was thrilled to see it thrusting out the other end.
This year there was no resentment or anger. I have adapted to my new normal – being a single homeowner, taking care of my home and responsibilities, and feeling a sense of pride in a job well done.
That, friends, is what time (and a lot of therapy) can give us. Perspective, growth, and healing. And the courage to move forward.
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10 Responses to “three springs”
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Marketing Mama® features articles on parenting as a working mom, health, family activities, cool products, my two adorable children and sometimes I even talk about marketing.
Ahh… good for you! Great story.
Sometimes the smallest acts can be the biggest symbols. Healing is a beautiful thing.
Congrats Missy! Whether single or not, it is always a sense of achievement to learn how to do things without aid.
I think you are doing a great job!
Really moving and well written! So much in life is a process, isn’t it?
I read your tweet this morning, and after seeing your headache woes last night, I was impressed at your fortitude. I love seeing how time heals even the deepest hurts and makes us stand tall again. Love to you…..
Now take action against the messiest, smelliest and most detestable job ever and have guards installed over your gutters to keep out the muck. It’s the best investment you’ll ever make as a homeowner.
Free-flowing gutters you cleared yourself…a great metaphor for working through the muck and starting a new life. Have a great weekend! Susan
Thank you for sharing this. There was so much after my divorce that I had to adjust to and, though I don’t have a home or some of the same circumstances, overcoming some of those initial fears were huge for me. Susan is right about the metaphor. And you are absolutely right about time and therapy (a support system of some sort, a creative outlet, a therapist, a sounding board et al.) being so crucial. Then, taking action against those gutters getting clogged up to shore up your defenses. I think this is good inspiration for a song!
Love you. <3
Love this! After my divorce I needed a lot of help with household things as well, and slowly started learning how. Doing things on my own, even as simple as hanging Christmas lights or clearing the weeds, makes me feel strong and empowered. Good for you!
I remember the first winter after my divorce when the snowblower kept dying in my White Bear Lake driveway. I threw a tantrum that could compete with a two-year-old when I couldn’t get it started again. I kicked it and kicked it and sobbed and resented my ex-husband as well as my neighbors who were, from my perspective, sitting in their warm, cozy homes laughing at me. 20 years later I don’t even remember what it was like to have someone else do that job. And although I don’t have any big trees dumping gunk in my gutters in my new home, I remember that job and I do it at my mother’s every year. It is disgusting, and voluntarily tackling that before 7am is a big accomplishment… especially just a few years out from divorce. Great story and a great reminder that everything passes. Eventually.