Destruction feels good, knocking away detritus, cobwebbed shingles, rotted wood. We understand now how the house got away from her. Neglect tells stories, reveals pain. So we slam the iron fist hammer to clear hurt, loss, and damage to rebuild a porch, a place to enter our new home that is being torn asunder bit by bit. When the year passes, and we have stripped away what was left to us, the new will not replace the old, but rather the old will inform it so that we remember to acknowledge and repair in the coming years to keep our house strong.