My Home, My Friend

Last fall we posted a sign in front of our house. A little wobbly square with metal legs that announced in  thick red letters: FOR SALE.

Part of me is elated.
Sometimes I am so ready for change, for an uprooting of my spirit and a boost to my inspiration. Often times I'm psyched about building, decorating, growing. About starting a new chapter on fresh ground... About living in the midst of towering pines that sing sweet songs...

The other part is feeling such a huge bag of emotions that constantly zigzag and flip according to my mood. One day I hate the thought of starting over somewhere else. Of learning new habits, new faces, new lessons...I grow weary and sad because this has been my home for eighteen years. I know the sounds and textures and corners by heart. I find comfort in the swoosh of the dishwasher in the mornings... the click of the furnace as it fires up... the way the sunlight hits the wall with a splash of rainbow.

I'm familiar with the yard... the time it takes to make a hundred passes with the lawn mower across its summer skin...the places where stubborn dandelions play...the comforting smoothness of green on a warm night as lightning bugs dance in the fields. I know the pleasure of seeing my mom's tulips push through the earth every spring... my pink flamingos kissed by rain... the pond snapping with hungry fish on a hot afternoon...dragonflies and baby deer and birds that play in puddles of dust. I've memorized the ocean of gumballs that dot the yard...the orange of autumn sassafras...the smell of hay being baled... the scent of wild honeysuckle.

I will miss my life here. The parties and people who enriched this home. Halloween decorations gone crazy and karaoke loud enough to break windows... and bad enough to annoy the neighbors. The disco ball that crowned our first 70's party to the tacky tablecloths that announced a white trash bash.
Of course there are the celebrations of birthdays and graduations and holidays that lit up this house with energy and love...who could forget those? They are all imprinted on my heart like a badge. Like a reward for having nurtured and respected this house.

I grow sad remembering the big yellow bus that creaked its brakes to pick up my children for school every morning...and then, years later, occasionally stopped to pick up my grandkids. I smile thinking of the mail lady...her friendly wave, her postcard greeting at Christmas, her chit chat as she delivered packages to the door that were too large for the mailbox. I think of the propane trucks that backed in the drive every fall and winter, filling my home with warmth and heat, and leaving me awake wondering how I was going to fit it in the budget.

I'll miss the sound of a thumping basketball, the tuning of electric guitars in the garage, the clatter of a hot grill sizzling with steaks... and the joyous sound of an Easter egg being discovered among the daffodils.

Yesterday we got an offer on the house. Now begins the cat and mouse game of playing with the figures and negotiating the terms. I wonder if my house deserves that...to be bid off without a voice of its own...to be traded for something new, better(?), and so completely unknown.

A year from now, who will be watching those beautiful bright stars as they glitter in the night sky above the pond? Who will be mowing the lawn in smooth straight rows... or picking wild blackberries from the fence row? Whose laughter will be echoing through the rooms? Who will be making memories inside these walls? Who will ever hope to know the pride and security that I felt here?

And, yet, on the other side there is a brightness...a little red cabin waiting to expand, to fill up with voices and songs, to grow rich with flowers and parties and a doormat that says "Welcome". It's a place that already has our hearts...that simply waits to beat in regular rhythm to our lives.

My emotions flip flop again. How bittersweet are new beginnings! How sorrowful are goodbyes...