Since May, I have been going back and forth with the HOA/Property Manager where I recently purchased a home. HOA are more the norm here and it seems I bought one with a backyard fence that was not the approved style for the development. The seller was notified in 2019 and had a year to comply, did not meet the one year deadline and three months later sold it to me, conveniently never mentioning a thing. Yes, I asked. And in the packet from the HOA, there was nothing listed under outstanding items, issues and applications. Yes, I read everything and double asked.
Now here I was going back and forth, with the kindest attitude I could muster, to defend my position to leave the fence as is. At some point I knew that I had to replace the fence as I had already decided to sell the house six months in, just waiting for my two year anniversary this November; too much HOA, far from work, volunteer activities and friends. And even though my girlfriend told me not to, I Intuitively knew I had to, but really didn’t want to; expense and really not my responsibility, I decided to do nothing, just ride it out and of course, that was not the correct response the universe required. And so one Friday, after working until 6PM and picking the dog up from DayCare, I arrived home at the end of a severe thunderstorm with strong winds and the rain coming down so hard you couldn’t see the road, to half of my fence in the back laying in my neighbors yard, her tree limb split and hanging perilously over the part of the fence still erect and exposing not only my back yard and home but the pool. “Well you sure told me, ey?”.
The following week while I was working on getting estimates for the fence, I also was told that I would need to take Cooper, my 10 month old rescue, to a Vet Neurologist two hours away in Richmond for an MRI, a consult and blood work that would cost me more than my MRI for my knee. I wasn’t happy about the cost, really didn’t want to do that trip and wanted to push it off a bit. However, I fully recognized that without knowing what was wrong with his back legs, we couldn’t begin to help him. I finally called the Neurology center, and learned that it was part of an emergency hospital and although we would have an appointment, we could be there all day depending on the emergencies coming in and having to juggle between them and the scheduled appointments. Now I really didn’t want to go; two hours each way with a puppy who was restless in the car, no eating or drinking after 10PM the night before, potty schedule off. Ughhhhh. I knew I was going regardless so our best bet was to take the first appointment at 8AM and hope for the best. And so for the next two weeks I played this mantra over and over in my head. “I really don’t want to do this, I really don’t want to do this, I reeaallly don’t want to do this”, and held on to the accompanying dread like an anthem. Sigh.
So the fence was finally set to start work on, the deposit paid. Ouch! And now we’re getting ready to leave at 5:30AM the next morning for Richmond. I was tired, not really feeling up to it and my right meniscus, which I had torn last September and felt healed in June, all came undone in July, when I went kayaking and hiking, and was now back to square one. Double Ouch!! I was in pain, upset and felt so put out, so you best believe I prayed that night and asked God for just one thing, “Make this trip easy for me please?” I think I only slept around four hours; I was just not tired until I woke up at 3:43AM and then I was. We were on the road by 5:38AM. Sigh.
It was a Tuesday and we made it to Richmond in two hours, a bit early. I parked next to the emergency hospital and took Cooper for a walk. When I saw a worker coming out the side entrance of the hospital to dispose of waste, I was prompted to ask her if I was in the right place. I was not. But Almost! I had to go down the street, make a left and would see the sign for the Neurology office on the other side of this building. “Thank you.” Back in the car and finally in the correct parking lot I called to let them know I arrived. Within 30 minutes they came to the car, had me fill out paperwork and took Cooper. They told me to make sure I was around at 10:30AM and I could sit in the hospital lobby and wait, if I wished. I did not. I chose to take a walk, a very long walk, to get the kinks out from the long ride and be ready for the return. I walked slowly, cautious, in reverence to my knee and just observed the surroundings; I felt the sun and breeze against my skin, stretched my legs and back, breathed deeply and tried to think of nothing. After an hour I became groggy and went to take a short nap in the back seat of the car, but I was too restless. When I went to get out I couldn’t because the child locks were holding me prisoner - who knew? I just shook my head and yelled, “For cryin out loud”. Now I had to climb through the narrow opening into the front seat with a bum knee I really couldn’t bend. I had to laugh before I just gave up and lost it. “Keep it together Karen Frances, it’s going to be a long day.”
I returned to the hospital lobby a bit before 10:30AM. They were waiting for the doctor to call me in. At 11:12 AM I was ushered into a room where the Doctor went over the results of the MRI, showing me a healthy canine spine first and then showing me Coopers. Not good. We discussed trying an anti-inflammatory to see if it helped, but with a degenerative spine, hard discs and scoliosis, there was nothing really to do. I went to the desk to pay the balance due and was elated that the bill was a few hundred less than the original estimate. Every little bit helped. Sigh. I went to the car to cool it off and waited for them to bring Cooper out. They came walking across the parking lot at about 11:52 AM. We were on I-64E by noon. So far, so good.
Even though it was a straight run back to Virginia Beach, my GPS suddenly told me to get off at the next exit, 303 South. I thought it was odd, traffic was moving and there was no alert for any issue up ahead. Maybe it was one of those short misguided directions but I followed the directions. The exit took me on to this narrow single lane country road, shaded, with tall strong trees on either side. As I continued, the trees started to reach up and over the road until they met in the middle, forming this beautiful arch where the light filtered through. It reminded me of Old Country Road on Long Island where I grew up. Beautiful oak trees on either side, rising up and meeting in the middle for a mile into town until I was older and they had cut them all down and widened the road. And now here, I was close to and supported on either side by these beautiful sentries, held under the cover of their plush canopy. And as I drove further through this living arch I could feel them leaning in against me from either side; I felt held, hugged, embraced. Immediately I was lifted, lighter, so thankful. And as I moved on, the trees began to relax, pull back and were once again apart, an open sky above me. As I passed the only street sign to the right, I noticed the inscription, “Spiritwood”. Less than a minute later, I was being directed back on to the entrance of I-64E.
Although Cooper and I were home by 2PM, exactly two hours after we left, I never noticed time for the rest of the trip. I was so intent on holding on to that feeling, to that hug that I received, allowing my tears to fall in sheer gratitude. Prayers answered and then some.
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