My writing cottage is so much more than where I do my writing, though it is one of my favorite places to write. The walls hold all my joys, fears and dreams. At times, it feels very sacred to me– even more so now that Frankie is gone. Her spirit is so alive in this space.
I feared the day when she was no longer here that I may not be able to come out to my cottage and write. When I am in my cottage, she was always here beside me. I couldn’t imagine how I’d feel being here without her. But this is where I feel her spirit the most. I thought after Frankie died I also would never want to write again. I’m so grateful that is not the case. Being in my cottage and writing is what has helped me tremendously the last six weeks since she has passed.
The walls are filled with many photos of Frankie, as well as the altar I’ve created in her memory. I got to thinking the other day how the next little wiener dog is going to have some mighty big paws to fill. I mentioned this to my mom when she was here on Saturday. Her solution was that I build another cottage on the opposite corner of the deck for the new “someday” dog and me. But, oh, then how would I choose which cottage to go to each day, I wondered?
As with anything, change occurs as it should and when the time is right new sounds of tiny clicking nails will sound on my hardwood cottage floor, and time will continue to move forward as it always has.
My cottage is where I come when I feel the need to cry, or rejoice, or just sit and renew my faith that everything that is happening is all part of my divine plan.
I used to say life is about sacrifices, but now I’d rather say that life is about choices, and that is how this cottage came to be. After sharing a photo of it awhile back and saying that everyone should have a space of their own, I heard from one woman who was a wee bit upset with me. She very angrily said in a comment on Facebook, “Must be nice, but not everyone can afford a space like yours.” It was not what I meant and had covered in my post about a space of one’s own, that it can be as simple as a small corner in your home. And it can also be as simple as a corner in your mind.
It also brought me back to thinking about the choices we make. I sold what at the time, was a prized possession of mine, my little red sports car. It was not that valuable, but I did sell it for a little chunk of money to help pay for some of the materials for my cottage. The rest was a complete labor of love that my husband lovingly built for me and also helped pay for the rest of the materials.
While I don’t know that woman’s choices in life, this was a choice I made. It means I let something go that I loved in order to have this cottage. There are many other “things” I don’t have because of the life that I have chose. I think it’s easy to think, “Oh must be nice.” While I love the life I have chosen, it may not be for everyone, and that is okay. The point is this is my choice, my life, my cottage. And I write about it and other things to hopefully inspire others that whatever their dreams or choices are that they too, can maybe find a way in which to reach those dreams.
My cottage helps to keep me in balance when I question if I am making the right choices and I feel fear rise up in me worrying about the future or the what if’s. It brings me back to the core of what matters to me. My cottage is my sacred space. It is the hug that reassures me. It is me.
