Monday, October 26, 2009

The Attic

One of my first posts to this blog was about a trip into our dungeon--the nether regions under the main house that are accessible through our basement apartment. It is kind of scary back there. A dirt floor, with very large and uneven stones that may have been intended as paving at one time. The stacks of stones and rough-hewn wood that are the foundation of this house. And, of course, I can't stand erect back there, due to varied degrees of low clearance.

This weekend, I cleaned out the attic. This is in its own way just as interesting as the dungeon. I had a young volunteer, Ryan, who had fun with the vacuum and took out most of the several million dead bugs up there. I went through boxes, got rid of some stuff and re-packed everything else far more neatly. I got several bruises on my head from smacking my head so many times on the beams. I found pieces of newspaper dated January 1925. All in all, an unforgettable experience.

Now, suddenly, the Attic seems like a very cool place to be. I found an unopened box with a fake aquarium bubble light sort of thing, and I set it up in there. (Yes, there are working electrical outlets, who knew?) Fake fish now dance in colored lights and bubbles. Nancy hung a ceiling lamp with a multicolored shade. We tossed around a few rugs. It's still an attic, with boxes and trunks lining the ... well, not walls. Eaves? But the windows are now clear, and sunlight makes the space seem so much more livable.

Last October, when I was visiting the cenacle in Ponce, Puerto Rico, Sr. Silvia Arias asked me where I now lived. When I told her, she said, "Trinita! I lived there for five months as a postulant! I loved it there."

I was surprised to hear this. I guess that must have been in the 40s or 50s, and apart from the summer camps, I did not think our sisters spent time there. I asked her where in the house did she stay. "There were five us us who stayed on the third floor."

The third floor? We have no third floor.... "Sister, your bedroom was the attic?!" She serenely affirmed this. I was humbled. And I complain about not having enough space here! So I promised her that one day I would hang a sign in the attic that said, "Sr. Silvia slept here." I think it's about time for that sign.

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