Tuesday, November 13, 2012
To Answer a Question
Our son called me late yesterday. Nothing unusual there.
I wasn’t going to post here again until after the move, but
the course of our conversation really moved me enough to write this.
Knowing how sentimental I am about this home that we’ve
carefully evolved over the years into what I felt was our dream home, he asked
mom, are you ready, I mean mentally to leave on Thursday night?
I responded with something akin to: Adam, how do you prepare to leave a place you’ve
spent almost half your life in?
Thinking it over, the thoughts piled high and the tears have
Am I ready? No. Will I cry more when we leave the keys on the
empty kitchen counter and use the spare in the lock box to back our way out of
the empty structure and lock it?
Have I been taking extra time just staring at the room where our
daughter and son-in-law started their engagement and then our son and
daughter-in-law did the same? Yes. In my little 10 x 10 office where our son
moved in when he was 5 am I thinking of all the little boys who played video
games on his platform bed? You bet.
Our master suite where we slept with our German Shepherd rescue
Lucky and our beautiful rescue white cat Snowy and then our beloved Sunshine
and now Pepper-am I trying to BURN in the layout in my mind? Absolutely.
The kitchen where I’ve prepared literally thousands of meals, put
in not 1, but 3 sets of appliances and had dozens of arguments with pre-teens,
teens and fed hundreds of toddlers-will I compare that nook with the new one?
But no matter how many tears I shed or how many remaining hours I
spend looking over the rooms-I will probably look at my husband and realize
that we moved in here as we entered our 30’s-the same age as Sarah is right now
and we’re leaving to start a brand new life, in a brand new home (one devoid of
disgusting paint, new blinds and only one bathroom to re-model) and we will
make brand new memories.
It won’t make the life in this house be forgotten; it will just be
that the memories will be just that-memories.
What is life without those?
So Adam, to answer your question-for once, I cannot give you a
firm yes or no-but I can say I’m ready to stop the tears of sadness and replace
them with ones of happiness of being re-united with your dad, all of my
precious children and my “dividends”. I’m
ready to find new walkways with a new pup, create new and memorable family
dinners in my new kitchen and maybe, just maybe-not look back.