The Home We Built Together

 

Today in yoga, my intention was simple: I am a Warrior.

At first, I thought about it physically. Healing. Recovery. Strength. Endurance.

But as the day went on, my mind drifted back to another season of my life when I was also a warrior, though I probably did not call it that at the time.

I thought about being a newly divorced single mother to a little girl who was only 18 months old when our lives changed.

I remember the day my daughter, our dog Norman, and I left our family home and moved about 45 minutes away to a three-bedroom condo in Hillsborough, New Jersey. I chose it because it had a colonial feel to it. In some small way, it reminded me of the home we had just left, and I did not want the transition to feel too drastic for my little girl.

That moving day was exhausting. My daughter and Norman stayed with friends while I finished packing and directed the movers to our new home. Before bringing her there, I quickly set up her bedroom to look as much like her old room as possible.

When I picked them up later that day, I excitedly showed her our new place. To her, it was an adventure.

After putting her to bed that night, I stayed up unpacking, organizing, and carrying box after box out to the recycling containers because I wanted her to wake up the next morning to something that felt less like chaos and more like home.

Of course, I still had to go to work the next day, and I remember how incredibly long and tiring that day felt.

As the years went on, we built a life together. New friends. New playgrounds. New routines. New memories.

We were a team.

I tried my best to make her life feel steady, safe, and normal even during times that felt anything but normal to me.

When my daughter was little, she used to tell me that the condo in Hillsborough was her favorite home and that someday, when she grew up, she wanted to buy it.

As I mentioned in another post, she also deeply loved the family home we moved into when she was eight, and of course the home she has built with her own family now.

But there was something about that little condo and the life we created there together that stayed in her heart.

And honestly, it stayed in mine too.

That little girl in the photo is Caitlin — the same Caitlin who would later inspire Caitlin’s Star.

Maybe that’s why the themes of home, love, memory, and resilience found their way so naturally into the story.

Looking at this old photo now, I realize something important.

At the time, I probably felt exhausted more than strong.

But my daughter did not see exhaustion.

She saw adventure.
She saw home.
She saw us.

Sometimes being a warrior is not about looking fearless.

Sometimes it's about building safety, joy, and stability for someone you love while carrying your own worries in the background.

And somehow, love gives you the strength to keep going.

That little girl loving the home we built together will always stay with me.

So yes, “warrior” is a good word for this current healing journey after knee replacement surgery.

But there were other times in my life when strength carried me through exhaustion, uncertainty, heartbreak, and change.

And you know what?

I would do it all again.