Moving On Up
I did it! I moved out of my historic two-story country brick home and bought a lovely ranch house just two miles from my son. I no longer run up and down the stairs with loads of laundry, but I also no longer enjoy the smell of sun-dried sheets on my bed and the roughness of line-dried towels against my skin. (see my post The Zen of Laundry for a fun read).
The last few days before moving, I had my morning coffee and breakfast on the deck. I shared the time with a red-headed woodpecker that had moved into the neighborhood this spring.
A robin had also decided to nest, for the first time, right outside my bedroom window and I got the first cutting from my rhubarb in the freezer before moving. These going-away presents tugged at my heart and made me want to stay. But the wheels were in motion and as I found out from threatened lawsuits, it was too late to turn back.
There is always a trade-off whenever there is change, even if that change is for the better.
Instead of being on the road for the most of an hour to buy groceries, I now have the convenience of a grocery store, several restaurants, my bank and a used book store all within a short drive. The serenity and beauty of the Dahlem Conservancy is a mere two minutes away and I can hike at the MacCready Preserve anytime I chose.
It’s been over thirty years since I went through the process of buying a house. I’d never been through the wringer of selling a home. I’ve been told that it is one of the most stressful experiences of a life-time.
I had no idea how true that was. Many times I had to remind myself to breathe. Sleepless nights, doubt and second-thoughts were daily obstacles. I often wished my late husband could give me advice and counsel. But the decisions were mine alone and heavy to carry.
After several weeks, closing day arrived, the pile of documents was signed and the deed was done. The new owner of my old house said her daughter couldn’t wait to paint her bedroom purple! I had just finished two years’ worth of remodeling and redecorating. I reminded myself that it wasn’t my house anymore.
I got in my car, turned down an unfamiliar street and drove home.