And That's That.

And then, suddenly all the packing was over; the mountains of boxes all transferred to a storage unit...OK, TWO storage units, a mile from home.
NOT our home anymore.
The parting was made slightly less jarring by the new owners purchase of the larger pieces of our furniture on the main level, so the place wasn't so entirely, sterilely empty when I closed the door for the last time.
But I know that already my former space is being filled with stranger's things...it's THEIR home now, afterall.

We've moved more than most and my leave takings have usually been hasty retreats, no backward glances only itching to start unpacking at the eagerly anticipated new digs; new homes whose walls often began as pencil scratchings on my sketchpad.
Not this time.
This time is different.
This is obsessively poring over the MLS between packing marathons. Trying to imagine our things in....a 1923 farmhouse with a small barn and chicken coop. Or a 1956"Jetson" house...which was one day quite stunning, but not alas, today. There are new houses with the shockingly hard colors and black brown cabinetry we started out with in our very first home in 1978. I think I've been there and done that. There are dear old, hopelessly outdated homes that I long to revive...I feel their sense of rejection "How long have you been on the MLS? How many changes of Realty agents ?"....but I'd love to do that transformation for someone else, not for me!
There was a two story "barn", 30'x60' down a winding road in deep woods that a builder tempted us with a creative and practical reworking of space. But taking down the trees necessary to get a yard and some sunshine would yield enough firewood to last us years but tree felling and stump grinding would gobble up a budget.

On the Internet, two houses made my heart go pitty pat. They were both filled with wonderful "creature features" and the MLS photos looked great...but Onsite visits revealed that these homes had broken their family's hearts...water damaged and filled with black mold they sat empty and abandoned; just existing to disappoint MLS mavens who think they've finally stumbled upon "THE" new home for them.

On Tuesday, at 7:50 am, the moving truck pulled up and eight hours later I found myself all alone in my emptied and spotlessly clean FORMER home. Really, it looks like a brand new home. God gifted us with a beautiful, cool day. The breezes grabbed my pretty Martha Stewart lace curtains...I know it sounds hokey but it was as though they were waving goodbye. I AM going to miss them. I WAS tempted to "forget" that they were included in the sale....but if that had ever been a serious thought, which it wasn't, at our closing on Monday, their new owner asked once again, for good measure, "...and the window treatments are all staying?" yes,theyallstay.dang

...but I digress. It was so quiet. No one but me and the waving laces and the ceiling fans swirling lazily. I lingered. After so much rushing around running from detail to detail, I lingered, alone. It was difficult to leave, but I turned off the fans, latched the windows, denying the sweet breezes. I thanked God for all the blessings I so don't deserve, and I locked the door and drove away for the last time.