Reality sets in: A treasured family home will soon live on in my memories only

Every evening and late into the folliwing morning, I sit on the long and spacious sofa in the den of our family home in the historic district of town — wistful, sad, hopeful — knowing this beautiful house, which has been “home” to me for 26 years, will soon be only memories and photo files in a special online album. This house where I took care of my mother for ten years as she struggled so bravely with dementia, has a buyer now, and it’s only a matter of time before I move I move to the apartment I’ve rented inanother part of town, fairly close by but light years away in most respects.

I will miss everyday the powerful presence of Mom’s spirit in this house which she loved dearly. Designed by my architect brother, the den has 11-foot ceilings and 8-foot tall fixed French doors with multiple window panes which stretch the entire length of this enormous room, allowing expansive views of the trees and garden just beyond, and flooding the room with sunshine most days of the year. It is a light-filled and cheerful sanctuary which I kept full of flowers for Mom, and still do in memory of her. It was the center of all our family gatherings. I feel sure Mom lived to be 96, despite her diabetes and dementia, because of this gloriously-designed room. This isn’t to say I don’t have very painful memories of Mom’s suffering terribly with episodes of Sundowner Syndrome and other manifestations of dementia’s cruel course and onslaught in this room where she spent most of her waking hours, especially in the late evenings as her dementia got worse over the years.

It’s really unbearable at times to think about giving all this up, as necessary as that is because the costs to keep the house are unsustainable for me. My two siblings have two-thirds ownership, and they certainly don’t want to keep the house, which could have been where I lived out my last days, and passed away here just as Mom did — at home. But selling it will make all our retirement years more secure. So I have to be a realist, as difficult as that is for me in this particular instance.

I know I must look ahead to a future where this house has become irretrievably part of the past, remembered and cherished, but no longer part of my life.

The good news is that the prospective buyers are dear family friends we’ve known for 45 years. I will be welcome to visit and sit out on my beloved porch, but of course it won’t be the same and will be quite awkward at first.

Again tonight I will sit here on the sofa, enjoying all the Christmas decorations I have set out, which in addition to a little tree, includes a small, lighted Lemax Christmas village with six structures including two houses, a restaurant, grist mill, candy shop and bakery. All are decorated for Christmas and lit from the insides with small bulbs that cast a warm and mellow glow. I also have a snowman, winter Christmas flower box, and pop-up decorative Christmas cards. It’s all very cozy and reassuring.

But it’s very sad, too, knowing this will be my last Christmas in this, our family homestead, which will always be “Mom’s House.”

Our home and garden, soon to be treasured memories only:

https://flic.kr/p/2mRC3qs

My Lemax Christmas village “Main Street”

https://flic.kr/p/2mRxSBi