It’s finally here. We have been living with ceiling-high piles of boxes since mid-August, not 100% sure of the exact date of the move; but now it’s here. The truck will arrive in just three hours, load up seventeen years worth of stuff, and then toil two miles across town to place it in the new abode. It’s bittersweet.
We moved our children four times before we settled into the house they would call home most of their lives. We hauled them across the country, moved twice within New York City, found our first suburban place, and then made our way a bit further north to our lovely little adopted hometown. Our house was the place. All the local kids came here once the Middle School gatherings began. Extra mouths to feed at the table almost every night of the week; at least a dozen extra on the weekends. Our kids took their prom photos on the front lawn, camped out in tents in the backyard, played rollerhockey on the top of the cul-de-sac. They and their friends, given free reign of the basement playroom, completely destroyed it with their, ahem, delightful antics; to the point where, when they were gone to college, we had to rip the room down to the 2×4’s to make it livable again. Our dog and one of our cats came in as babies and leave here in geriatric mode- the dog will have to be carried in order to make it into the car for the ride over. Fond memories.
But it’s time to move on. BC (“Before Children”), we flipped houses pretty often. This house we have been living in is the fourth place we have bought and remodeled. Flipping houses has gotten us to where we are today, and now it is time to begin again. Opportunity knocked, and we opened the door and gave it an icy, refreshing drink. Our new home will take time to fit right. It will certainly feel strange for a little while; but, as we have always done, we will make it ours: cozy, welcoming, warm, loving. Then we’ll probably flip again…who knows where the next five or ten years will take us? For now, it’s so exciting to be back in the game that I am only looking forward. I will miss a couple of people on the block (you know who you are-we never built that tunnel between our houses that we always talked about! xxoo) but I am only two miles away. It’s a nice walk or bike ride over and we will make it often, I am sure.
So I am chugging my coffee, throwing last minute items into miscellaneous boxes, and waiting to hear the rumble of the moving truck come up the street. Goodbye and hello!