The end of an era approaches
The construction workers, have started repairs on the house ahead of its sale later this Spring. With the market the way it is, I’m told it could go in under 48 hours, with a bidding war to boot.
It’s been quite a week. Junk haulers carried off mattresses and boxsprings, chairs and a freezer that never worked ($100 fee just for that). The gardeners are beginning a three-stage plan to get the front and side gardens ready. The estate sale crew is setting up and staging in every room of Mom’s house (3,000 sq ft) and every one of them will be filled with antiques, fine and very old porcelains and china, furniture, mirrors, antique boxes, framed botanical and bird prints and 38 of my framed photos from past exhibits. I’m very excited about that because I didn’t know it would be happening.
My sister said that when she looks at the estate sale Web site and sees photos of most of Mom’s beautiful furniture and china, it breaks her heart. She accompanied Mom on many of her forays to antique shops when she was young and in school, and later as an adult, so she knows the stories behind each piece.
The house is empty of all my stuff that was packed in there over many years. All of Mom’s belongings that are not in the estate sale are gone.
I am finally settled in my new apartment. It’s turned out to be quite cozy now that I have furnished it and filled it with many of my hundreds of books and funky gewgaws and treasures. I’ve actually lived there for about a week now. Such a great kitchen and appliances, everything so new and clean, a bit different from what I was used to. The location is absolutely perfect in an area of the city I’m very familiar with, and very near three of my favorite places to eat, and also a block from the shopping center where I shop for groceries. There’a Greenway for daily exercise walking for as long or short a time as I want.
But it’s continuing to be a very difficult time emotionally. My mother has been gone for two years now but the true meaning of grief, with all its manifestations, has set in with a depth and finality I wasn’t prepared for.
At the house last night loneliness closed in on me rather quickly, but nothing too deep. I walked through this much-loved place in a sort of daze, knowing there are fewer and fewer days left to be here and visit. The house sits emptier quieter and more sad with each passing day. It senses the end of this family era — mom’s house, and our family house or homestead, if you will, for 25 years. She loved it so. I do, too. I try not to think about the last day here. I can’t even imagine. The shades are pulled up in my bedroom upstairs. It’s empty now except for a few pieces of furniture, such a total contrast to the cluttered room that was my book m-filled sanctuary for years. Yes, there was way too much in there, but now empty, I just sit in the blue chair in the corner and sadly can’t believe how I’ll soon be gone never to enter this house again.
The entrance to the side garden:
I would love to see some of your exhibit framed photos. You may have shared them before but I didn’t see them. The new apartment sounds just perfect…I’m glad you are enjoying it. That side garden is beautiful. Yes, that will be a very sad day when you know it is the last, I can’t imagine. We have lived in our home for 33 years this month and if we ever left it would rip my heart out to walk away from it for the last time. Being happy where you are will certainly make it a bit easier, I hope.
@happyathome Thank you! You can feel exactly what an emotional roller coaster this entire moving process has been for me. The new apartment has become quite cozy, and I love being in close proximity with many of my books. I am following the same routines as when I was at the family home, so that has been comforting! 😌
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Letting go of the house that my parents owned since I was a kid and we lived in since 1967 was so hard for me. I tie memories to place. This is the town where I was born and where my grandma lived since my dad was a child. My parents, grandparents, brother, and other relatives are buried there. Now all those ties are gone and I have no reason to return. It’s so sad for me. I understand your emotions.
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It is as though the junk haulers are taking a part of you away. My parents built their house in 1947 and we sold it furnished in 2005 after their deaths. Fast forward to 2012 and my son is going to college in my hometown. Looking for an apartment on Craigslist, he finds my childhood bedroom listed for rent!! Same furniture and carpeting! The last time I was in that town, moving my son back after graduation, I drove by the house one last time and regret it. My parents huge vegetable garden was turned into a paved parking pad, their beautiful flower gardens were weeds and grass. My advice: Once you say goodbye to the home, don’t go back. It is really difficult to see your memories wiped out and replaced.
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Do you know, I remember every square inch of the home I grew up in and I’m 63 years old. I can see every room in great detail. Houses are so much more than houses aren’t they. The entrance to your house’s side garden is beautiful. As far as your new apartment goes, if you had to live somewhere other than your beloved home, it sounds like it is a good place to land.
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