Since the day we moved into our home, 3 years ago, I’ve developed a love hate with the basement. I love it because it’s open, bright and enjoyable for a basement. Hate, because…well, it’s a basement and there was an undetermined scent that I would get whiffs of, that no one else seemed to get, that inevitably would be blamed on my husband. Yes, it’s that kind of scent.
We’ve seen the water spew outside the house when turning on the faucet for hot summer afternoons of filling the small pool for a bounty of splashes. From the faucet it sprang, outside its bounds…a washer replacement perhaps? Not that I know anything of such things. Inside, just the opposite side of that outer wall, warping. Old water damage…until the base of a nearby bookcase split from its water holdings.
Yes, over the holidays we discovered what causes my nose to bend so…mold.
Not knowing a whole heck of a lot about mold, I was a little freaked out. My mind races… in the meantime, C (along with a neighbor) began the task of eradicating the mold from our home. The job was big, insurance kicked in. Professional cleaning, drying, asbestos testing per state law. Our home was taken apart it seemed, chaos spread into every room and the anxiety over how this would affect J began.
Yet through it all, the boy who can handle little change, the boy who needs so little and yet so much, consistency and constancy being the cornerstone, this boy amazed me. He never complained. He went with our changes, our re-directions into other rooms. J seemed to be aware that we had no way of making what was normal, normal again. Surprisingly, amazingly, thankfully, he helped us get through.
Everything has finally found its way back to the proper place and J hasn’t missed a beat.
Can you think of a time when your kids surprised you?
