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The Move Part 2

Letting Go

Things surrounding the sale of my home are building … in a BIG way.

After listing our home of 37-plus years for sale this past June, my husband and I threw ourselves into decluttering and sprucing it up for the open house, held mid-June. By the end of the month, we had secured buyers.

Despite our diligent effort to attain our home’s Certificate of Occupancy as promised in our contract, it appeared our town’s building department seemed to have it in for us. Just when we’d been told things were looking good, that inspection conditions had been met, they imposed a new requirement. A phone call with a Disney-like villain town clerk, who seemed personally invested in thwarting us, brought me to tears of frustration.

Two steps forward, one step back. 

Another delay. Another expense.

Today we have what we hope is our last inspection.

Headaches aside, I knew there’d be an emotional toll of selling our home. It’s easy to keep those heavy thoughts at bay when you’re doing busywork, but they hit unexpectedly when our daughter-in-law, who was headed out of the country, requested we take a picture in the family room. She said, “This is the last time I’ll be in this house.”

My heart squeezed at those words, and the next morning, as I thought of them again, the realization that we would soon no longer live in our beautiful home hit hard. We will soon leave the place where my husband and I raised our two children, have hosted countless family events, many with those no longer with us. The pretty gardens that we lovingly toiled to establish and maintain, the charming family room we built just to host our large family parties, will belong to someone else. I sobbed at the loss.

As I break down rooms, sell furniture, donate bags and boxes of knickknacks, and take pictures and artwork off the walls, I experience moments of sadness, but also of deep appreciation for our home. I will miss this lovely house and this town where I’ve lived most of my life, but as the weeks pass, I am consoled by the fact that I am closer to my goal of moving near my grandchildren. Knowing that in another year, my future will be daily and weekly interactions with two little humans that I love indescribably helps me grow more comfortable letting go.

Photo by Baruk Granda on Unsplash

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