Closet space

I’m a “Healthy Birds Fly” parent. My mantra is “we are not raising children. We are raising future adults.” Watching our now-grown adult children thrive makes my heart happy.

For those just tuning in. GirlWonder and her HandsomeHusband bought a home a few weeks ago. Being asked to help them turn the house into a home one — or 100 — projects at a time, has been the joy of my life.

Still, as each project is completed, l feel a combination of happiness and nostalgia as we wonder when it will be “done,” and the time will come that we won’t have reason to spend evenings and weekends with them. My not-so-secret hope: never.

Surprises

Fortunately, old houses come with plenty of surprises, so I think we can count on invitations as long as our tools — and backs — hold out.

GirlWonder completed her closet this weekend. I say “closet” to describe a space that was once a haunted, gloomy, dark hole of a space accessed by a small door from their bedroom. It was unfinished, uninsulated and even came with a snake. Yes, it was THAT nice.

Mr. Wonderful started clearing it out of old debris and building supplies that predated at least a few wars. His first day there, the door inexplicably shut behind him, and a tiny catch latch that is difficult to operate from the outside on a good day sealed him in. He had to telephone us to return to the house from some distance away and free him. We wrote it off as a fluke.

A few trips later, and the same exact thing happened again. The door, which is not at all loose or prone to swinging shut, somehow clicked and held. Fortunately, we were all on the property when he texted to say “the closet got me again.”

I admit we laughed uproariously as we freed him. If it was haunted, we assumed the spirit wanted to keep him. No one else ever got locked inside. Just Mr. Wonderful. I get it. He’s a catch.

It’s a large space, but the walls are angled to the pitch of the roof. There was zero insulation, the floor, made of 150+ year old unfinished wood (gorgeous), and it was all illuminated by one dim bulb dangling from the center of the room. It was not welcoming. That was before we saw the snake.

Her father and grandfather spent weeks working on that space. Insulating. Drywalling. Running electricity for lights. There was an entire week when the temperature soared over 100 degrees in that room. Finally, however, it was done. We spent a fun Saturday sanding and painting and scrubbing the floor.

GirlWonder and Mr. Wonderful worked together to bend a cast iron pipe into 20 feet of sturdy closet rod. We rolled out a pretty rug and wrangled her great-grandmother’s antique dresser into place. It was done. A once dismal space turned useful.

Empty

It seemed only fitting that I walk through our own house and empty our own closets even as she was filling hers. I walked in that Sunday morning, determined not to cry as I handed over her prom dresses and wedding dress that had been staying with us “for safekeeping.” Now she had a space of her own. I considered it a “christening” of space to send her precious wedding dress, and fun high school memories, her way.

She moved out three years ago, but the truth is our nest didn’t really “empty” of her belongings until recently. As I write this, it is nearly Independence Day. This seems fitting. Usually, I’m pretty happy with my “adult kid” lifestyle, but sometimes, if only for a minute, I catch myself missing our babies. They certainly are independent indeed, but how did it all go so fast?

Fortunately, a big chunk of their dining room ceiling crashed to the floor, so the bad news is that it will need to be repaired. The good news is that means we aren’t quite done yet.