When I hit 25, things began to fall apart. I lost my job and had to vacate my apartment in several months with nowhere in sight to go. My parents were in another state, and I had no friends with available space to sublet a room or something of that nature. I started to fear that I would be on the street and have an even harder time finding work, worsening my situation like an inhibited downward spiral. But then, right as I began to think all hope was lost, I received a call from an attorney who stated they were managing my uncle’s estate. My uncle had passed away from cancer a few months prior to that point, and after the funeral I had tried to put some distance between myself and his memory. We bonded for years so the grief was immense. The attorney explained that my uncle willed one of his houses to me, a slightly old two bedroom, one bathroom house out in the rural stretches beyond the city. It needed some work but I had been trained in home restoration by my father and apparently my uncle considered that when he gave me the house. I was speechless and at that moment everything changed for me. I found a job within three months and had the kitchen remodeled after a year. That’s when I decided to repair the old wood stove that was left in the house and went unused for several decades. Although I needed to have the venting system checked up to the rooftop, I started clearing away caked up soot from the insides of the stove, just trying to clean it a bit to restore some life in it. It took a few weeks of labor after work each night, but I finally have the wood stove to safely use. My heating costs have dropped and my uncle’s house has never felt warmer.