Today, I’m going to take a break from my normal religion and philosophy writing because I want to share something that happened to me recently.
After my 5 years of traveling to learn about different religions, which you may have read about on my about page, I settled down in NYC. It was the obvious choice at the time. After experiencing so many different cultures abroad, how could I not come back to the one place in the country that has a little piece of all of it in one spot. I lived in Manhattan’s Upper East Side. I know what you’re thinking – ritzy. It was a nice place, but I got a great deal on it and split it with a friend. We did enjoy it for a while. Nice restaurants were close, the air was cleaner than the normal city air, and because it was a more expensive area, the crime was lower. It was fun, but I wanted to go somewhere a little bit closer to where I grew up in Massachusetts, which is when I moved to Boston.
I bought a nice 3 bedroom, one story home in Boston, Massachusetts after searching for months to find the perfect one. It was almost like the “American Dream” home. It was off-white with a white front porch, gray shutters, and a white picket fence out in the front yard. I even had the white mailbox to go with it. I think the only I was probably missing was the milkman, but those days are long gone. Inside, the floors were all hardwood, granite counter-tops, GE appliances, and furniture from all over the place. I shouldn’t say that. The furniture was from the states, but the kinds of furniture and inspiration came from the different countries I’ve been to. I tried to incorporate the colors and feel of different countries in my furniture and I think I did a pretty good job of it.
This isn’t my house, but it does show the color. Unfortunately, I don’t have a single picture of it. I promise to get on that and add it to this post at some point. Regardless, I love this place…or at least I did. Last weekend, we had a bad rainstorm. I was watching the weather on the local news and the weatherman was predicting heavy rains and high wind, atypical for this location in my experience. Personally, I think a job as a weatherman is the only one where you can be wrong half the time and still get paid, but that’s a rant for another time. He was correct in his guess on the weather and the rain started coming down very heavily. That’s when my basement started to flood. The house was beautiful, but it was already “aged” we’ll say when I purchased it. The foundation of the house apparently wasn’t very good, and water started pouring in all over the place. It also didn’t help that it was late at night, so I couldn’t see anything without the lights on. I was running up and down the stairs like a mad person trying to drain the water out, but I just couldn’t keep up with it. It was like a sinking ship. That’s when I called Newton Fire and Flood to fix it. I’ve never had anything like this happen before, but of course, I know people who have, and that company was their recommendation. Their building is apparently only a few miles away from me. It was an emergency call – I called in a panic – and they came over faster than I expected to help me. There was a lot of water damage because so much had flown in through the foundation, cracks, and crevasses. All of my furniture in the basement was ruined, but there’s nothing anyone could have done about that. They removed all the water and cleaned up the whole basement in a matter of hours. Their service went way above and beyond what I expected and I’m just thankful that they were able to get to me so quickly. I’ve also learned my lesson about an older house. I’m planning to move again in a couple years, and next time around, I’ll be paying closer attention to how the house may hold up in a freak situation like what happened this time. I think God was looking out for me this time.