We officially began the construction of our home on March 9th of 2020. We knew it would be a pretty exciting year, but we had no idea just how much would change. Having sold our former home the previous October, we were housing our family of six in a small apartment nearby while the building took place. The winter was rough on us. We were used to having a lot more space to spread about during the cold months. Living constantly that close to each other sets more than one mood on edge. I spent nearly every hour of every day at my computer, dreaming, designing, and drawing house plans. I’m quite sure I drew over 20 versions. My back ached constantly from sitting in one position for far too long. But spring was around the corner and the prospect of getting started on our great project, combined with warmer weather and the ability to get out of the apartment more, was enough for us to hang on to.
Brent and I spent a muddy, wet day staking out the area and excavation began on March 9th. I can’t tell you how exciting it was to see the outline of the foundation in three-dimensional concrete. I had been staring at, measuring, and tweaking those lines on paper for months, and to see them in real life was emotional.
Not long after the concrete foundation was dry, the framing began. Brent and I drove out to look at the progress probably eight times a day. At the end of each day, we would gather up the kids and take them out to see. We would walk around on the floor and envision where the furniture would go. And we would laugh that surely it was too small and we would never fit the beds or the couch in the right places. It’s funny how small the footprint of a home looks before the roof and walls get put up.
Things were going along nicely. The weather was improving, the house was progressing, and even though we kept hearing rumblings about a new virus taking over, our overall outlook on this year was pretty positive. I remember being parked in front of the paint store (it was time to pick the color of stain for the outside lumber) when Brent called and said that our state had been officially closed down. I looked up and there was a sign on the door to call if you need a sample or an order, and someone would bring it out to your car. To this point, we were very happy at how fortunate we were to be able to have construction moving so quickly on our home. Although we had been warned that it would be hard to find sub-contractors willing to work for us, as opposed to a professional builder, we had found many great people to work with who did quality work in a timely manner. Our luck was about to run out however, but not actually due to Covid or labor.
Many months into being squeezed in our apartment together— partially due to winter and partially to quarantine— Brent felt eager to get out and ride his bike again. He has been an avid cyclist his whole life and thought a ride with a few friends in the hills would be perfect. It happened in less than a second, his front tire slipped sideways and Brent slammed into the hard-packed dirt and rock on the side of the hill. His buddies got him to the emergency room and I arrived soon after. I was not permitted to go in because of Covid. The doctor came to inform me that Brent’s hip had shattered in several places and he would be admitted for surgery as soon as possible. There was a moment of mercy when Brent was transferred by ambulance to another hospital and I got to see him for just a few moments outside the ER.
One miraculous surgery and a week later, Brent came home. He was instructed not to put any weight on it for 3 months. It was the end of July before he was allowed to even try and walk on it. It was another few months before he felt he could walk normally. Throughout this time, the workers learned to take instructions from Brent over the phone or through me. I tried to take on a little more the role of construction manager, but progress slowed. Every afternoon, Brent would have me load him and his walker into the car so we could go drive around the property. He would meet with contractors in the car and give me lists of items to go over with whoever would be there the next day. Some days, I would pull the car right up to the porch edge so he could maneuver his walker and get into the house. He would sit and give moral support while I performed various finishing tasks. It was amazing how much he orchestrated from his humble walker! The kids and I sanded and finished all the wood doors with his instruction. We stained the wooden planks under the patio vaults, filled grout on the fireplace, and a million other little things that home builders do.
In addition to all the extra work it took to get things done, by now the schools were closed too, and the kids were schooling from home. They were pretty great about it and mostly did their work without a lot of prodding. But for several months, it was a lot to deal with. Schooling kids, caring for a recovering husband, and living in tight and unfamiliar quarters all at the same time was pretty tough. Looking back, I’m sure if we hadn’t had the house project to keep us going, we would have gone mad.
It’s surprising how many things actually go into building a home. We had anticipated about six months to finish. With all the setbacks, it took us nine months from excavation to completion. We moved into our new home with joy and tears the week before Thanksgiving. And for the ironic cherry on top— we all got Covid that same week. This meant we had to move out of our apartment and two storage units with just ourselves and the kids, and my dreams of hosting Thanksgiving dinner in my new home were dashed. We weathered fairly well however and got all moved in just in time to lie in quarantine amid piles and piles of boxes.
Our first Christmas here was perfectly lovely and the New Year gave us much to be grateful for. Oftentimes, the struggle makes us appreciate things better than we might otherwise. Full-length couches, our health, and simply walking are luxurious when we’ve been without for a time. We love our new home, and we would do it all over again the same way.
