A Dramatic Change of Scenery

How life can change in just one week…

In just 5 days, we went from feeling the sand and ocean on our feet and the Mexican sun beating down on our backs…

To feeling plaster, lath and nails under our work shoes and the sweat from hours of hard labor drenching our clothes:

Eight days ago, Joey and I were in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico enjoying our first ‘real’ vacation together. When I looked around, I saw a beautiful ocean, when I was hungry, I ate the best fish tacos I’ve ever had and when I was thirsty, there was an abundant amount of Corona and fresh limes on hand.

It’s a different scene that I look at now, one that leaves crashing ocean waves and relaxing afternoons far behind.

When I look around, I see the carcass of what was my home, its crumbling plaster walls turned to rubble on the floor. Sweat drips from my body, drawn out by swinging crowbars and hurling bags of plaster rather than basking in the tropical sun. My recently tanned skin pales beneath layers of dust and grime. There is no Corona waiting for me here. Vacation is over.

But still, as I survey my home, which looks like a crack house that’s been bombed, I am happy. I feel relief with each blow of the hammer and relish the sound of my ceilings crashing to the floor. This overwhelming destruction makes way for the clean slate I’ve been desperately craving – a home with smooth and even walls, 21st century wiring and a bathroom free of stained, orange carpeting and rotting windows.

I had a vacation where I relaxed and indulged more than I ever have in my life, and returned home to work harder and more intensely than I ever knew I could. Vacation may have been the reward for a lot of work, but it’s the work that’s actually bringing the biggest reward.

Don’t get me wrong, I look at these pictures and stand in my house and I loathe parts of this. I hate the chaos, dirt and labor that have become regular components of my life. But I wouldn’t take this experience away for anything. Swirled in with all that frustration is enough pride and satisfaction to keep me going through the weeks of no electricity, the shroud of dirt and the inconveniences that lie ahead.

I may not have an ocean to dive into later or a margarita waiting poolside, but I have a home that I’m slowly transforming into a place to call my own. And one day, it will become a place I can retreat to, making the shores of Mexico a little less necessary. Okay, that’s ridiculous, the shores of Mexico will always be necessary, especially when they come with fish tacos and a Corona.

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