The Berlin Wall

On Thursday night, Anna and I went to a therapy session and then stopped at the Home Depot to buy power tools. We added a carpet, a mirror and a bathroom cabinet to the cart.

I was grinning as I sawed that damn bed frame down. For months it has eluded us all as we tried half heartedly to get the bed out of the room that Anna claimed after her step sister abandoned it. The loft bed frame would not fit through the door. The bolts spun in place as we twisted them. So for months Anna slept under it - the bed frame looming over the mattress on the floor like a metaphor. I mean, it WAS a metaphor.

Until I physically and metaphorically cut it down. I was gleeful as I pulled the legs out from under the bed and we sat the platform on the floor. Anna spread the sheet and comforter over the mattress and we noted how much brighter the room is this way. We carried the loft bed legs to the trash. The bed - and the room - and the relationship with my kid - and the whole Thing in some ways - is on the ground now.

I thought of the Berlin Wall. I was celebrating as I tossed that damn bedframe in the alley. I felt set free. But, like East Germany, the rebuilding has just begun here. There are structural problems that require intense work. It is too delicate for power tools, but the power tools had to come first.