It was hard to imagine that all our possessions were securely stored in the plethora of boxes inside our soon to be living room. I traced back and forth through the house, analyzing the traits of each room and mentalizing the new places we would place the furniture and other knick-knacks. For some reason, there was a unique attraction in my mind with a specific bedroom, one that had its own balcony that peeked over the rose-filled garden. This was a view I could get used to waking up to every morning. I hurried downstairs and picked up my personal box of items and then quickly returned to that comforting room. My eyes brightened and everything was falling into place perfectly, who knew.
After 5 hours of hard labour work every piece of furniture was finally assembled and it felt like being back home again. My mother made me some hot chocolate and started up the first fire in our new chimeny, something that would become a new habit of ours. I snuck a quick glance over at my mom, who peacefully adulated over the fireplace and I couldn´t help but be so more proud of myself for sharing this great change with her, my best friend. In Virginia, my parents were divorced for some 5 years, and it was anything but easy for my mom, but she undermined every obstacle and succeeded with a wide grin on her face. Her independence is one of her strengths I admire most. I knew she needed me during this change, in her condition, she needed to be looked after. That night I cuddled into my new bed and stared infinitely into the cieling thinking about how life has a funny way of taking place, how nothing ever goes as planned, but yet everything that happens, happens for a reason.
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