Homage to a house

Tonight is my last night in this house. It is snowing. The house is empty except for a few things yet to be packed or tossed.

I immediately liked this look of this house when I first saw the realtor's flyer ten years ago. When I actually saw the house there was disappointment. Every room was painted a different color. The library walls were covered in ancient peeling wallpaper. The hardwood floors were covered with decaying wall-to-wall carpet and the back bedroom floor was linoleum. The shrubbery was overgrown and the gardens unplanted. The kitchen appliances had seen better days. The bathrooms were ugly and sad. But the price was right and it did have that huge barn.

We moved in. We pulled up carpet and scrubbed floors. We painted each room. We lined the library walls with built-in bookcases. We renovated the bathrooms. We updated the kitchen. We planted and pruned. We painted the exterior. We bought furniture and hung art and photos. It became a home.

Not long ago someone told me the house was very zen and she was pleased to meet the person who created it. It made me laugh -- but I knew what she meant. The last two and a half years have been heartbreaking and difficult. But the house has been a sanctuary without being a prison. It has given me a place to create and channel my energies. This house has helped me through the grief and pain. But it is time to move on and to create a new home -- for me and for my daughters.

I will miss my house. I am sad and yet I am hopeful.