A Tale of Too Many Dresses

I was sure folks would line up to buy it and braced myself for the onslaught. But nothing, no calls, not even from the real estate vultures who want to talk you into listing with them. 500 views on market place and another 500 on MLS and only 1 showing.

I was nonplussed -flabbergasted actually. I even got a little scared, which thankfully is rare for me these days, but mostly I was stumped. Gunter was a rock, also a bit surprised but trusting there must be a reason.

This is the most confused I’ve felt since back when the kids were little and I planned to take them to Meach lake for the day. Marnie will remember because I told her about it again and again. How I’d imagined them all toddling and toodling about in the water with the Gatineau hills standing watch. How we ate cold grilled cheese sandwiches and fresh cherries and Hungarian walnut rolls for dessert. How I forgot for a while how much I longed for my husband and how bereft I felt without him. I imagined this so lovely day so clearly that it felt like it already happened. So when Sifu asked me not to go because he had a bad feeling about it and we didn’t go – I experienced a schism. I couldn’t understand how it wasn’t to be, because it already was. It still feels a little weird, except now I know that it actually mostly was. I trust this yin world perhaps as much as the yang one and have come to be very careful of what I believe, because it’s true.

The only other time I experienced this schism, like a glimpse between worlds so strongly, was when Janny passed. I couldn’t understand how God could take her when she just got so beautiful and loving, so cool. Her 3 year death march was so profound and enlightening not just for her but for me to witness. God I miss Janny. Even though everything pointed to her death, I was shocked and it took me many years to trust gravity again. Also much chocolate and an addiction to TV to fall asleep that I am just now breaking free of over a dozen years later.

This was all many years ago, the kids were little, Janny was still alive, Sifu was watching over us and I was in the throes of my passions and emotions and sufferings… It was my Camelot, and things were less clear. With the house not selling as I imagined it would, I was thrown back gently to a time when I resisted what is.

Now, we are here in a village near Vienna. Gunter’s father designed, and built with his family over 10 years, a perfectly lovely house. Sadly Gunter’s father was ruled by his anger it seems from what I hear. It seems that he poured all his dreams for a peaceful family life and the love he could not express into the concrete that set the foundation and walls of this house that he built like a tank. Even after some 40 years it stands unscathed by time, only cobwebs betray its age and loneliness. Before he retired to live here full time, he passed away at this house resting in his favorite chair in the living room that is so often flooded with southern light surrounded by the magnificent Austrian forest. So the house was never fully lived in or allowed to provide the multi generational refuge and joy it longed to provide, like that day with the kids at the lake that almost never was.

It’s a wonderful house, it feels huge but is only about 2600 sq ft which admittedly is large but it feels so much larger! There is another 1000 sq ft of unfinished possibilities in the cellar. Gunter’s Mother loved to garden so there are beautiful and interesting plants, shrubs and flowers that reveal themselves mysteriously amidst the majestic trees standing watch like benevolent giants. The trees are slowly encroaching, wanting to take over but the house is so sure it can not, still it is almost claustrophobic with towering trees obscuring views and insisting that one stay in the moment and bathe in its glory. The Japanese would buy this home in an instant to bathe in the magnanimous forest. There are neighbors very near on each side but so often one would not know. Then when one goes upstairs to the terraces off each room the vistas are revealed in all their glory and one’s breath is different, it changes. I saw this with each of the 3 real estate agents, for a moment they forgot and were still.

This house is nestled in a very sweet traditional Austrian village and has a small, carefully curated cemetery on its outskirts. Here we visited Gunter’s father’s grave which is outrageously overgrown with the tallest coniferous trees, like sentries standing watch and reminding him that he is safe and no longer needs his anger as armor. They even obscure his tombstone so I feel he finally becomes, one of, and basks in great peace.

Nearby Gunter and I have the privilege of choosing a place on the memorial wall where his mother’s ashes will be in-turned. We choose one graced by western sunlight, high up and centered where she might reign, should she wish, and also watch over, as is a gracious woman’s way sometimes and she is a most gracious woman. I am so glad I got to meet her, we shared such deep conversations with Sandra too.

In another time… I feel I am the hausfrau, dressed in traditional Austrian Dirndl, in this manse. Here I raise my children with their father who I admire in this house Gunter’s father built. This home where Janny comes by for tea and to critique the shortbread cookies that she insists are so simple; just equal parts sugar, butter and flour Lu, you can get it! You’re just not quite there yet, try again she says as she almost bites into another stone and decides to dunk it in tea instead, this is what friendship means. She tells me how Sifu would squirrel her shortbreads away and loved how they melted in his mouth. Here the children are still little and I adore them as much as ever. I regale people with epic stories of their magnificence and they play all day at the lake, for in my realm Gunter’s fathers house also has this beside. Only my husband remains the same in both and watches over us.

Gunter and his siblings and I get to work on the house this week to prepare it for sale. My dear husband hunts cobwebs, carefully vacuuming every 14 ft high ceiling and wall and window sill and floor. He is adamant that his father’s vision not be disrespected by these webs that the plastered surfaces allow for an even greater tenacity. He is on a mission and is startled when I come to ask him something because the vacuum has shrouded his mourning. Sandra sorts family belongings and treasures, while Roland tends to the gardens and mows the lawns that slope so aggressively down to the stream at the foot of the property buried in gorgeous Austrian forest.

I of course start rearranging the furnishings, which somehow feel parked not placed. Gunter’s got a great eye for design that we only realized when I reflected it back to him. He helps me move a few things and as usual says… something’s not quite right. ( and he’s always right but please don’t tell him I said so.) So we tweak it together and it is much better. Then Sandra chimes in to insist the exquisitely carved Chinese room divider be returned to where it was and it is better yet again. Roland comes in to rest on the couch facing the majestic forests and we join him on the black leather chairs and loveseat for now there is a place to welcome this new family home.

We returned to Vienna for the candle lit funeral of Rosewita and shared a happy lunch at Ganesh Indian restaurant where I introduced Roland to the wonders of the onion bhaji. The next day Gunter and I interviewed 3 realtors. The first one shows a chart of what happens when a house is priced too high. And I get it now- clear as a blue and red lined day – the townhouse in Ottawa didn’t sell because I priced it too high, the graph lines clearly show low is better so people out bid each other and it rises back up.

On this note, I must share, for it is germane to this story and fun – I’ve taken some time here in Vienna to enjoy this lovely city in all its springtime glory. I visited the largest city spa in Europe sourced from natural mineral springs. I so enjoyed the baths and beautiful gardens and children’s slides that adults can also enjoy and private naked sauna and gardens where all is revealed in such liberating ways. I will go again today.

Another day I rented a bicycle to ride to Freud’s home where he practiced analysis and changed my life. I have such gratitude to him and the wise and honorable analyst I worked with 4 times a week for 11 and a half years. I don’t even miss him, mostly. He guided me so well. While on the way I came upon a many streeted city flea market that apparently happens annually and I hope to come to visit it and my brother in law Roland in future years because both have such good sense of humor. Here were tables of tiny treasures which I love but resisted as everything needs to come back to Ottawa only to be packed up again for Greece. I even resisted the tiny porcelain pitcher & bowl with pretty lavender flowers with green leaves, should you come across one please buy it for me though because I wish I had. Here were wonderful fashions of every array and dresses pack up so nicely that I bought 5 for 100 Euros. 3 purple ones of course – one with a sort of tutu like skirt, a beautiful green silk chemise and a delightfully brilliant white dress with too many pink & red flowers and green leaves, that swirl in the wind like a parachute. I wore this flowered one when we met the real estate agents.

What I discovered though, which Freud would I think commend… is that I have a tell. There were other dresses I thought I wanted. Mostly I was seduced by the silk ones, some by high end designers, so beautiful and so colorful and so not really to my taste. With these dresses I bargained with the vendors and when they didn’t accept I said I would think about it. I realize now this was my subconscious showing me I don’t really love the dress. (With Gunter I never had any doubts.) I begin to see that my bargaining for a dress, my roadblocks, my perceived impediments – might just be my subconscious, or as Jung might say higher consciousness offering its protection. Perhaps I priced the townhouse too high because I intuited it is not the right time to sell. Again I must remind you that I was flummoxed by it not selling and a bit scared.

A few days before Roswitha passed unexpectedly I began gathering up books I thought she would enjoy, to send to her. And so often when I think of someone they reach out to me… Sifu called this yoga. Marnie tells me when we are out of touch, which is rare, she can feel if I am ok and if we are good. Once when I felt estranged from 4 very precious women in my life they all reached out within days of each other. I share this to remind myself because I too quickly despair, there is a ripening, a collective unconscious flow and a part of me that knows what has yet to be revealed. To remind me not to try to control it because it is futile and hurts people and also me. Like Dear Adeline reminded me when we shared tea and a walk with our partners, “it always works out” When I live this and choose not to let fear define me as Gunter so wisely phrases it, I am free. Free to feel whatever may emerge in its moment but not to latch on. As my precious Sifu told me early on, tai chi is every and only about letting go.

Thanks to Gunter’s father’s commitment to provide for his family there is perhaps no need to sell the townhouse in Ottawa and it might continue to provide for us. Now it makes sense, that I missed the mark so clearly, that I bargained for the dress I didn’t really want.

We will buy the house in Greece that is calling us home and intend that it become a foundation when we pass to offer retreats for artists and creators who wish to share their gifts with our world as we do. And Gunter’s parents, and mine and precious Sifu’s legacy will live on. I look forward to moving there soon though I will miss you all here and trust you will visit.

Shared with love and best wishes for each, on our respective and collective journeys. LoveLu.
Moneca

P.S. I have inadvertently healed from snoring and sleep apnea after a lifetime of fretting and raising roofs and seeking cures. I will save this story for another day.