It’s here. We’re moving into the new place. Of course, my dad and stepmom are still in it, so it’ll be a new adventure in family togetherness and bonding. I look forward to making memories. But the house belongs to us.
This house, the one where I sit and type this, doesn’t.
A good friend of mine and I packed up the rest of the kitchen, the winter coats, and she tackled Jonathon’s basement workshop area yesterday. I got the stuff out from under the bathroom sink. Oh, the places you’ll go!
I ran one last time in our neighborhood. A typical Shelton “mizzle” fell from the dark sky. Every muscle group ached from all the packing of yesterday. I wanted to feel something, anything, about this house and area we’ve inhabited for just over 10 years. But sometimes feelings don’t hop to our schedules. No memories came to mind. I only felt numb from exhaustion.
Ruby wrote this note and magnetized it to our new-old refrigerator.
I had to smile. This note says it better than I could ever say. I love it when someone else is able to express what you can’t. Sometimes, words aren’t enough. We need pictures, too.
Thanks, house, for sheltering us, keeping us warm and keeping us cool, for being our first home in Shelton. Thanks for helping us be a part of this welcoming community and for letting us learn how to welcome others, too. Thanks for your proximity to both our church and the library, as well as the kids’ grade school. Thanks for blessing us. May you bless the new family who settles here. We’ll see you around.