Today is our last full day living in the house we no longer own. The sale recorded yesterday, and now I suspect the new owners are anxiously awaiting our vacating the premises so they can move in and begin the next chapter in their lives. The movers will be here at 9 a.m. tomorrow; by mid-afternoon our lives will have been transplanted to our new house…where Erin and I will begin the next chapter of our life together and the process of turning that house into our home.
The last few days have been something a nightmare, to say the least. That’ll happen when your mortgage company turns out to be inept and uncommunicative. Despite that distressing cluster%$#@, all that remains is to sign for the new house at 6 a.m. tomorrow (yes, you read that correctly) in order that it may record and fund by mid-morning. The mortgage company’s screwups aside, I’m pretty excited about moving into a place that we picked out together. It’s something I’ve wanted for awhile, and when Erin texted me on Christmas Eve suggesting that we buy a house, I was expecting a long, drawn out process. I never imagined the entire process would play out in just a shade over two months, but I didn’t get off easy; there were several months of stress and uncertainty packed into that time frame.
Now that we’re living in a house someone else owns, I’ve found myself thinking about the nature and meaning of “home.” Leaving this house is laced with no small amount of emotion; it’s all I’ve known with Erin. We fell in love, planned our future, and entertained many friends in this house. I landscaped the back yard…which, if you know me at all, you understand how thoroughly uncharacteristic that was until I did it. The days in the pouring rain moving dirt and stone around were worth it, because in the end it became something I/we could be proud of. Leaving all that behind is more difficult and emotional than I’d imagined it would be.
A house may be just a thing in some respects, but more than anything it’s a shell, a skeleton over which are laid years upon years of memories, each layer representing landmarks and events and people that will be with us long after we’ve settled in our new house. Still, this is where those memories were made, and tomorrow we’ll begin the process of making new memories in a new neighborhood.
I can’t wait.
