The Lonely Flowers Are Calling

“We live in here. This is Ewa’s home!”—My baby girl told me after a few hours at the countryside. I can totally understand where she’s coming from. We were ready for the spring for so many weeks now, but the sun wasn’t in a hurry to visit us this time. We weren’t able to hang out outdoors too much this year so far, but today we could finally stay outside all day.

In the city we need to cross 7 different doors in order to get outside (9 when we’re going with a stroller). Last week when my husband was on a business trip the three of us spent a whole hour getting ready so that our dog could have a 10-minute bathroom break. There’s probably a hundred other dogs using the same toilet spot, all the green areas around our apartment block are way too dirty for my baby girl to play in the grass. Here all I need to do is open a single door, and we’re in a beautiful garden where all sorts of adventures await.

All my life so far I lived in some sort of apartment building. Even in a small village of 1500 people my parents somehow managed to find one. Later there were a few different city apartments, student dorms, and a long-term employee hotel. For the last few years we’ve lived on 700 square feet that we planned to upgrade eventually, but nothing really caught our attention. No place seemed lovely enough to justify the crazy apartment prices in Warsaw these days.

And then there is the house that my husband built together with his dad, with a garden beautifully kept by his mom. I never thought we could live here permanently because it was unquestionably her kingdom, but now she’s too busy living her best life in the city, she hasn’t visited this place at all this year so far. It would be lovely for someone to take care of her flowers, and so far it seems that my daughter would be delighted to do so. If this makes her happy, I know it would totally make me happy too.

The house would need at least a few upgrades before we could spend the winter here. We could use more square footage to fit in a home office and another kid, and there certainly has to be solid renovation either way. We’re going on an extended RV trip next month, so it’s unlikely we’ll get it in the desired shape this year.

But now that I’ve seen the delight on my baby girl’s face when she’s watering flowers in the garden, riding her own private slide, raking leaves, and running around in the grass, I’m increasingly convinced that we should give it a try. When I heard my friend sing a few days ago about how he’d rather move out of Warsaw, sit under a tree, and play guitar all day, I felt like he understood my soul’s deepest desires better than I did. It would be foolish not to follow that desire if my daughter feels it as well.