Here

Sadness creeps in when I think about leaving this townhouse.  I miss this place already and I haven't even left it yet.

Growing up I never lived in a home we owned.  I was raised in rental properties and we move a few times before I got married.  As a married woman we moved a few times before settling here.   There was no place that had roots for me ... until here.

I've lived 31 of my 69 years in this spot.  My roots here are deep.  It has been sort of my silent partner through some of the toughest and happiest years of my life.  It has been a good place to live.

I raised a family here.

I supported two elderly relatives through their last years here.

I offered shelter to my adult children more than once here.

I watched my mother sit on the front porch for hours here.

I mourned the passing of my mom here.

I watched my mother-in-law suffer and die here.

I watched my husband lose his vision here.

I mourned the loss of 7 cats here.

I watched my son leave for the military here.

I worried every year he was in service here.

I watched my daughter struggle with the downs of job loss here.

I watched my son leave this house on his wedding day to start a new life here.

I welcomed friends and family through many many holidays here.

I welcomed a new daughter-in-law into our family here.

I snuggled and loved (beyond all reason) grand dogs here.

I struggled with my own demons in a demanding job here.

Here ...

the place I am preparing to sell because it no longer

supports my life in a safe and comfortable way.

I try to remember how lucky I have been to experience home ownership.  Much of the world doesn't have more than a hovel to call home.  I remind myself that when I am long gone from this earth this townhouse will still be here, sheltering another family I hope.  I instruct my silly self to focus on the fact this townhouse is an inanimate object, a structure - not a living being and my attachment is maybe a little bazaar.   All those life experiences live vibrantly in my mind only.

I know all that.

But I can't help the feeling that a major portion of my life experiences are embedded here - in the  walls, the air, the foundation.  And I can't box any of that up and take it with me.

I hope I don't cry during settlement when I sign this place away to someone else and walk away ... this place I called home for 31 years. This place with my roots.

How will they know how special 'here' is!