What I remember...

A year ago today, on an evening much like this one, I received a phone call. It was Amy. She and Mike had given notice at their apartment; they were moving out and needed a place to live. Amy and I talked at length about their options -- they basically had three, one of which was staying with us. During the previous two months we had discussed the possibility several times, but by the end of the phone call the possibility was reality. We had 18 days to get ready -- to clear out and clean up the basement, and to fix the downstairs bathroom.

Until that phone call, the basement was just a storage space. We kept all of our tools on the fireplace hearth, stored spare lumber in the middle of the room, and filled the shelves with miscellaneous boxes. The bathroom was the cats' room, and none of the plumbing fixtures worked. Our free afternoons and evenings over the next 18 days were devoted to cleaning, fixing, and remodeling. It was a tiring process.

But most of that is actually a blur. I have only vague memories of laying new linoleum in the bathroom, replacing the toilet, putting in closet rods, moving and reorganizing the tools, and so forth. Mostly I remember that first evening -- that phone call. How Amy cried, and I cried too.

When I got off the phone and went downstairs to examine the crap piled in our basement, I felt useless. Giving family members a home in our brown-shag-carpeted basement room seemed more like an insult than an aid. It did nothing to ameliorate the real problems; it did not provide them with employment and it certainly did not cure cancer. It was just a room -- a place to take temporary shelter while the storm raged on.

Don't get me wrong: shelter is important. We were glad to help. And in the end, the bigger problems were solved. But at the time, on that day one year ago, our simple offer seemed so very insignificant.

I also remember -- N8 and his folks will laugh when I remind them -- that I really wanted to build Shoji for the basement, so that the room could be tastefully divided into separate living and sleeping quarters. Not surprisingly, the task was impossible given the timeline and other items on the to-do list. I thought I could take just 3 of the 18 days and get it done; much persuasion from my family convinced me to give up. (Thank goodness!)

Nate wanted to add a mini-kitchen to the basement. In retrospect? Not a bad idea. But again, we didn't have the time. We also definitely didn't have the room or the finances for a second kitchen! And really, what would have done with all that now that it's just the two of us again? Ha.

These days the basement is back to being a storage space, but more thoughtfully so. There are several pieces of extra furniture downstairs (in part because we're soon to remodel one of the upstairs bedrooms, so things have been temporarily moved). The basement is also a great room for some of our bigger projects, including my occasional (large) craft project.

But every once in awhile I just stop and stare at the room, picturing what it looked like a year ago, and 9 months ago, and 6 months ago. Wow.