Waiting in the car at 7:45 a.m., my youngest boy comes barreling out the door shouting “I am gonna be so late, Mom!”
It’s as if my life has morphed into “Groundhog Day.” While sitting at the red light, I pray that nothing will require me to get out of this car. I am wearing mismatched PJs, slippers that read “coffee first” and thick magnifying glasses!
Returning home, my day begins in earnest — cleaning dishes, making beds and picking up dirty clothes off the floor — before I head off to volunteer at Angel’s Attic, a nonprofit up-scale retail store in Grapevine.
At Angel’s Attic, people donate used clothing, shoes, household items, décor and furniture, and it is cleaned up and resold with proceeds going to local charities. Often, the furniture is just a bit tired and somewhat lost, so it goes to the furniture hospital for a little TLC, a coat of paint and new purpose.
Now, I have never considered myself an artist, but I do like to play with colors and materials. I am one of three furniture doctors, all talented and generous volunteers. As I started painting that day, I realized the reason I am so drawn to this work is because I relate to the furniture.
Here I am, a 48-year-old woman with two high school boys. I left a successful career as a New York City advertising executive to get married and start a family. Fortunate to have the option to stay at home and raise my boys, I traded in my Tahari pantsuits and Michael Kors handbags for some yoga pants and a diaper bag.
Being a mom meant being a superhero. I could make any “booboo” disappear with a kiss, and when my boys were sick, there was no stronger medicine than cuddling with Mom. It was heaven.
A lot has changed in 16 years. As it turns out, I really know nothing, my sense of humor is not cool, talking in the car when friends are present is prohibited and interacting with them in any way is most definitely banned unless it entails giving them money, food or clean clothes.
All that has defined me for the past decade and a half seems to have changed drastically, and there is no telling when it will stop! I imagine my youngest son saying, “Thank you for your years of loyalty, Mrs. Hyman, but your services are no longer needed here.”
Just like the furniture I work on, I can feel tired and somewhat lost. The truth is life changes constantly. So on the days when things seem to have shifted out of place, I take a moment to notice that dings and scratches actually build character. They represent strength, give wisdom and help us appreciate something we often take for granted: time.
It’s not over, far from it. We have a lot of life left. Maybe all we need is a little TLC, a refreshed perspective and a new purpose.
JO HYMAN IS A RECENT NORTHEAST TRANSPLANT, GOD LOVER, WIFE, MOM OF TWO DRAGON BASKETBALL BOYS AND A CHOCOLATE LAB, CREATIVE FURNITURE UPCYCLER AND BIGTIME GOOFBALL.
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