The buyer’s bank appraiser just left. As I watched him sit in his car, jotting down notes from his inspection of my house, the reality of what lie ahead finally jolted me like a thunderbolt unceremoniously catapulting into its target. We are really moving. Years of dreaming, hoping, wishing, and praying for that move to Florida was really happening.
I am a dreamer. I have always had goals or plans I hoped to achieve rattling around in my brain; sometimes thoughts randomly occupying space in my head, other times purposeful and with intent.
I’ve lived in the same house for 43 years. We bought this house when we were too young to really understand the enormity of that very first humongous decision. We were both two apartment dwellers venturing out into the world of home ownership, a world we were ill prepared to navigate. That very first night, seven months pregnant, and the house had no heat. “What the blazes did we do?” We huddled together, teeth chattering, blankets doubled and tripled around us. The oil man, we frantically called, could not get there until the next day, after all it was January 25th and we weren’t the only people in need of emergency services.
We suffered through the night, hoping against hope that our angels would protect us from frostbite which we were sure was a real possibility. That very next morning the oil technician arrived promptly on our doorstep. As the technician descended the basement steps, he looked at the emergency switch on the wall, which to our astonishment, was in the off position. The technician stifled a laugh as he flicked the switch back on. The sound of the furnace roaring on was music to our ears and the embarrassed expressions on our faces were enough to garner sympathy from the technician who was now our knight in shining armor. I consoled myself by thinking, I’m sure by this time in his career he had probably seen it all.
As he checked the furnace to make sure it was operating within specifications, we knew this was the very first step in our lifelong journey together.
As I stood on my front porch saying goodbye to the realtor, the past 43 years of family life played like a video tape in my mind. Over the years wonderful memories including my mother, sister, brothers, three children, their partners, two grandchildren, three nieces, one nephew, 2 great-nieces and 1 great-nephew all coming together creating joyful and some not so joyful memories and traditions. Births, life and deaths were entwined in the very brick and mortar of this house. There were days upon days that I would sit alone in my bedroom, silently communicating with God begging Him to see me through some of my darkest times and unbearable losses or eternally thanking Him for the unimageable blessings that continue to grace my life. I will never forget the comfort and solace of the space I created for myself in this very home.
My home was and is such a place of connection, peace, joy and love. As we begin this new chapter in our lives, I am so grateful for the life I had and so prayerful that the best is yet to come.
Have you ever transitioned or relocated to a new city, town, country? How long did it take you to adjust? How are you doing in your new life?
I’d love to hear about your experience(s).