Off Road

On Thursday of last week, I awoke to the rumbles of heavy machinery. Truck after truck drove down my block, with noise loud enough to shake the walls and set off the crib toys. Later, I came home to find my street closed, signs set in the middle of the road, and no pavement left. After some metal debating, I took the plunge and drove around the barriers down the now dirt road.

I was not prepared for the off road experience that greeted my little Sen.tra! Good grief. There were potholes like I have never experienced and rocks went flying. The trip made my teeth clang together. Babies started crying. It wasn't pretty.

The destruction of my street hit me hard. The symbolism wasn't lost on me, either.

The smooth ride I was accustomed to has been torn apart and stripped down to its foundation. Sure, there were bumpy parts on the old road, but they were manageable. I could see them coming and was quite good at avoiding areas that could cause trouble. I didn't mind that street. It was mine; it was home.

Since the babies were born, much of my life had become a dirt road full of potholes and rocks.

Today I came home to brand new pavement. The familiar cracks and potholes are now gone, leaving the blacktop smooth and mark free. It has to be as perfect as a street can be.

Even though I was comfortable driving down my old street, I know that the new street will be good for me. The destruction is over and now the rebuilding has started.

I think I have made my peace with that.