The sun is shining today. We haven’t seen sunlight the last few days and it’s been cold and dreary. Exceptionally cold and dreary for us here in Central Texas at this time of year.
And it’s killing me that I haven’t been out doing shows. This is the kind of weather when my crochet sells really well at the local shows. We don’t have a lot of winter here.
One of my best outdoor shows ever occurred when a cold front moved in about mid-afternoon. Until then, folks were milling around in shorts. Then the cold wind came in and suddenly my booth was full of earlier admirers who now had a “reason” to buy, or at least an excuse. They could now justify buying some yarny things.
It was awesome for me of course. But I also noticed the sense of relief in people’s eyes as they bought what their heart smiled at. For themselves. People don’t generally buy for the holidays here until the first chill. Which often isn’t until December.
But we actually had freezes the last two days! Freezes! We don’t usually see those until like… February!
The sun is streaming through my kitchen window, as I sit here and type, my coffee steaming nearby. I’m using Grandma Leona’s coffee mug today. All the letters have long since washed off, but it still sports the little waving alligator from the blood bank she regularly volunteered for. She was O-.
I look out the window at the bird feeder, hear her little chuckle and I feel blessed.
This is my favorite time of day in this room.
The sun is uninhibited. My kitchen is alight with a warm glow. It only happens during this morning window of about an hour, as the sun peeks between the oak and pecan branches just right and streams through the windows. Even my cats know this time of day in this room. They surround me. The glow has always made me smile. It even makes the dirty dishes look a tad romantic.
Dear son is feeling better but still home sick and restless today. As he flips on some rock music to do his homework by, I am reminded that I have a lot to do. But I want to hang onto this moment a bit longer.
Today is the last day I am owner of this house.
I wonder what mornings will be like in the new house? I’ll have lots of time to find out. But my time here is running out… like a slow drip, falling slower… or is it faster? But nonetheless winding down to the last drop.
“Good to the last drop….”
Sixteen and a half years…. It’s a long time. I glance around. The height chart on the door frame long since erased so we could show the house. All trace of little fingers gone. Scribbles on the walls, long since cleaned and painted over. We do get to lease back this home for another month until we close on the new place.
But tomorrow it is done.
She will no longer be ours.
But I suppose in a way she already isn’t.
I’ll hang on to her today…
Just a bit longer.
I don’t want this day to end too quickly, or to end without thought.
4 responses to “She Will No Longer Be Ours….”
Nicely written ~ I know those sunshine moments ~ much needed on a dreary day we’re having ~ Thank You for warming my soul with that.
It is hard to leave a comfort zone but you have the memories… and a new home to create new memories… good luck with your move & may the yarn gods be with you =)
It’s been 20 years since I walked out the door of the home I loved for the last time. It wasn’t the biggest or newest house I’ve lived in, but it was the one where my children were born and where I’d been so happy. My husband’s job transfer meant moving across the country, away from family and friends and that dear little house I loved. I cried as we drove away–I’m getting choked up just thinking about that day as I type this.
I had a love/hate relationship with this house. We weren’t supposed to have kids here. We were supposed to move within 3-5 years – a long time ago. I know what it’s like to be bonded to a childhood home and I didn’t want my kids to feel torn because we left too late. My son and daughter have shared a room far longer than I ever wanted. But it seemed the Universe conspired to keep us here. Repair after repair. Deployments, my car accident, medical bills. And yet, I had to finally come to realize, no matter how frustrated I was living in an older, small home, my kids were happy. And I could be too. I did not have a happy childhood. But my kids have and we all have a lot of happy memories here. My daughter already wants to buy back this house someday. And in a small way I feel I’ve failed her. As I can’t afford to keep this house for her. But perhaps, that’s looking at it the wrong way. Perhaps that’s a sign of success instead.
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