In just over a month our sweet house will no longer be ours. We’ve been thinking for this moment for years– wanting to shed the responsibilities and subsequent burdens that come with home ownership in favor of an easier lifestyle. But now that it’s upon us, now that we’re actually leaving, I wonder, what was I thinking?
We love our little house. We love it so much it even has a name: the Trinity. I love the way the stairs creak as I wind down them in the early morning hours and the way it is absolutely silent other than the birds when I sit and meditate, read, sip my coffee… I love the big kitchen that served as the vessel of my development as a cook. I love the sprawling patio that has served as an oasis for us and friends and the tree that blooms in bright pink flowers this time of year. I love the wall of English ivy surrounding us on most sides. I love the history, all 100 years of it. I love the neighborhood and it’s enclave feeling. I love the memories we’ve made here.
Letting go is difficult. This is our home after all. I’m wildly sentimental right now, even my rational self knows that these are just four walls and we will make memories in a new place, wherever that may be. This transition pulls at my heart. I’m fighting a change in environment, saying good bye to my people and places and my routines. My midday walks to the library then the Italian market, chit chatting with those I’ve come to know and they me. Sundays at the farmers’ market. The familiarity of everything–the streets, the faces, the feel of it all.
I’ve promised myself I won’t add to the stress with anticipation…you know the whole this is the last time…business. It just makes it worse, right? But I’m wondering if it can be helped. In fact, as I write this, this is the last time the [aforementioned] tree will bloom pink before me.
Eight years looks like little on paper but in reality it’s a life; the majority of my twenties and almost the longest I’ve lived anywhere. So much has happened here.
I’m trying to be patient with myself when I do what I said I wouldn’t: fret, be too sentimental. Rest assured, I am very very happy about all of this, deep down. No one is doing anything against their will. But while I am very excited for what’s to come, whatever it may be, I have to feel the mixture of feelings it is that I’m going to to feel. It’s the only way.