Thirteen years ago, after moving into our current home, I vowed that I would never leave it, unless I was in a body bag or someone else packed and moved our belongings for me. I was home, and I had no plans of leaving. Ever. Then, the plans changed.
In case you are not one for the obvious, I am not leaving in a body bag, and for that, I am thankful. I also am not leaving everything that goes into the moving of one household to a new one to anyone else. I am not leaving here as I vowed I would, but I am leaving.
When I walked through the door when we moved in, I entered as a married mother of two toddlers. The brick and mortar created a sanctuary from the rest of the world, and of all of the homes I have taken up residence in over the years, this one has felt the most like home. The majestic tree in our backyard has provided a protective canopy of leaves over our yard and given me a sense of safety and security. We made this a home. Our home.
Our conversations, laughter, secrets, and cries have reverberated through every room, and everywhere I look, there is a memory. This is the home where we raised our daughters and created cherished memories Birthdays. Holidays. Countless firsts and milestones. This is also the home that holds some of our most painful memories. My bout with anxiety and depression. Our divorce. My diagnosis with breast cancer. There are countless memories, and they are our memories.
As I prepare to leave my home, I will exit it as a divorced mother of two adolescent girls. A great deal has changed during our residency, especially in the past six years, and more changes are on the horizon. I do not want to leave, but it is the right decision. Doing the right thing, though, is not always easy.
Once I made the difficult decision to move, thankfully, the process has been easy, contrary to the house hunting horror stories people have regaled me with lately. I credit my intuition for this relative ease, for following it is what led me to a new home. I chose a wonderful realtor whom I did not know, but I knew he was the one who could help me to make this transition. I was right.
He both understood what I needed in a new home and what I wanted to have happen with my current home. He showed me five homes, and the fourth one was the one. Less than twenty-four hours after seeing it, I was signing a contract laying claim to a new address for my daughters and me. Yesterday morning, a For Sale sign appeared in our front yard, and yesterday evening, a Sold sign was added to the landscape. In two weeks, I bought a new house to make our own, and I sold my home to buyers who appreciate our home for what is and are invested in making it what I know that it could be.
It has been a whirlwind, and I am left with intermingled feelings of gratitude, relief, and sadness. I am leaving behind a place that I know and love for a new home that is unfamiliar to me, but I will take with me the lessons and memories that I accumulated here. It is the opportunity to start over in a place that is waiting for us to create new memories and to transform it from a house into a home. Our home. We are up for the challenge.
That’s another story . . .
Categories: That's Another Story