It's Done So I Can Begin Again

Thumbs up From One of the 2 Men
and a Truck Movers
(There were 3 men because of the piano)

Three Men at Doorway of Storage
Close Fit!!

The last of the boxes disappear in the moving van.  One last look through the empty rooms.  It's done.  The light squares embedded in the carpet look odd where the furniture was.  So do the dents where the piano stood in the entrance.  Curtains and shades are all drawn.  The morning light is just starting to come through the white shades.  It's running late because of the morning rain.  

I can honestly say I've gone through this labor with no drugs or caesarian. No coach holding my hand and telling me how to breathe and when to push.  I've been brave, resourceful, patient, flexible and focused.  Focused on the end result.  Freedom.  Freedom from house ownership, from settling in one place.  Freedom from the strangling sensation of the past, squeezing the life out of me more than the present and future.

Time has its way of creating change.  When we buy a new car we are thrilled with the features it offers our old car didn't.  I like the butt warmer, GPS, and would like more efficient gas use.  A new car is clean with just a few miles on it.  As we drive it out of the car dealership we smile and notice all the other dirty, dinged-up cars driving alongside us on the road.  After one winter it will start to show wear and tear.  The salt builds up under the frame, the widows get a few good scratches or pock holes.  Advertisements promise all the new features in cars.  Soon we're looking at the high mileage on the odometer wanting a new car. 

Houses show wear and tear, too. I had dents from moving furniture. Carpeting looking worn. Windows needing a facelift. A deck that could be bigger and better (especially to take the weight of wet snow that slid off the metal roof).  The cement in the driveway has cracks where the grass and weeds pop up.  Only one garage door opens with the automatic opener. The ceiling fan makes too much noise. The old tub doesn't look clean after it's scrubbed and scrubbed. The metal plate on the wall in the kitchen needs to be taken out where the wall phone use to hang.  

Houses aren't much different than cars.  They need to be re-done or replaced. The important detail in talking about houses is…...they are NOT homes.  It's living in them that makes them a home.  It's impossible to find a home on the market.  They are priceless.  A home is a living thing.  It radiates warmth.  It absorbs memories and stores them in every room, hallway and backyard.  It records dents in the woodwork, cracks in the paint, gouges in the linoliem, nails in the wall and loose boards on the deck. Each of these living events are like a shot taken for a photo album. 

When our houses are homes we forgive them their failings.  We turn a blind eye to the mileage they start to show.  A home becomes infused with love.  

I haven't heard the sounds of a home lately.  I don't hear the video games upstairs.  The basketball thumping outside on the cement.  The garage door opening.  The recliner in the living room snapping up.  The crackling sound the coffee machine makes when it's done brewing.  The clocks chiming the hour and half hour.  The toilet flushing.  The shower running.  The snoring in the next room.  The snowblower outside.  The microwave beeping.  The sound of keys when they are put on the counter.  The sound of "What's for dinner, I'm hungry?" The phone ringing and ringing waiting for someone to pick up.  

It's the living going on around us that gives us a home.  I'm ready to look for a new home.  My memories will go with me, not the house. When I tell someone I sold my house, I did just that.  I sold a house.  Never could I sell a home.  I will search for my new home in a community.  When I sink my heart into it I'll know it's my new home.  I will give and receive the life of my new home.  Home is where the heart is. (quote by a Roman man nicknamed Pliny the Elder.  He was born in 23 AD.  His real name was Gaius Plinius Secundus)

Istanbul Cat