I went for a walk one day, went to the place my husband found and fell in love with. It was a place by a river. There was a cute little house there. Everyone passing by was in awe by that house, loved it so much. The place was glowing, the Sun was hugging it, birds were chirping acompanying the joyful sound of million little waves on that river. Went there many times later, feeling more and more familiar with the place, addicted to its peace. We werent really house hunting, but ended up purchasing that little house by the river.
I had my reservations, cause...to own a house by a river could be risky. Lake is stable, but the river could be a different beast. Cuddly and flowing around your feet one day, like a cat asking to be petted...and angry and bitting your ankles the next one. It was such a joy to live there. Got used to having my energy restored sitting on a porch just soaking in the view. Kids fell in love with it easily, created a little beach down by the river, played there all the time, staying till the Sun went to sleep so many times. The river ran like a lazy snake for many months. But then....maybe the snow melted high up in the mountains, maybe it was raining cats and dogs somewhere far away. I did not see the heavy coulds rolling in...we only got a little rain showers here and there.......but the flood came. One morning out of the blue, big wave came, broke the trees by the shore, took a bridge, crawled right up the house and flooded the basement.
It came and then slowly resided, but changed the house forever for me. Damaged some of my prized possessions I kept inside, killed my garden, soiled the house with heavy sticky mud. The little beach disappeared, debris were left on the shore. It was impossible to take that nice relaxing walk down by the river again.
River was whispering its apology to me every evening. Instead of closing my eyes and going into my happy place, that whisper left me on high alert. What if it is coming at us again, tomorrow, in one month, in the Spring when the snow will be melting....Not if, but when? That river was scaring me, the home turned into a house.
We decided to sell it. Insurance covered some of the stuff damaged, but the pain stays. I go through the photographs of us being happy there and it hurts. Can not go there anymore, physically or on the path through my memory.
I wanted to tell my husband and kids: "I told you, I was right, you can not trust a river!" But what good would that do? I was once happy there too, loved it...
Farewell my place, I had a dream, but the Sun comes up now. The river whispers something to me, but I'm too far away from it to understand. I will leave it to just mumble....
