When we left Australia on the 17th of August, 2008, I didn’t realise I might never step foot back into our house again. Sure, I knew we were pretty likely to eventually sell the place, but it just didn’t occur to me that it was the last time I’d be inside those walls. The home that held so many memories. The home that I renovated hand in hand with our conveniently located builder neighbour into a fabulous home with my own office.
My mum and I painted the beams for the massive pergola. We bought the paint. I still have the clothes with stains everywhere. It took about a week to paint them. I also decided to use some odor free household odor eliminator to get rid of the paint smell. I chose the tiles myself, and stipulated the pattern to the tiler guy, (and also berated his math and wastage) and even ensured the tiles came up the edges in the kitchen to allow for easier mopping and a cleaner look (totally worked, too).
The kitchen cupboard door still has all the kids’ heights on it. I’m glad I took pictures of them.
And now as the paperwork finalising the sale gets completed, I realise I will be left with no debt (which is great), but also no security. The only thing I have to ensure my future financially is my ability to work and be paid well for it; something I’ve worked hard for, but which relies on my health to be sure to happen. And right now, I’m feeling a little too old to count on that.
So much has changed since we moved to Boulder. It’s an incredible journey and it’s not over yet. Not by a long shot. And as my mum reminds me, I couldn’t ever see us living back in that home. My dream home is not longer the dream home. Our lives have moved on, our family has grown up from then. Yet it’s still incredibly difficult to let it go.
I hope the buyers love the house, and enjoy their new lives there. I hope the vibes our family left carry over for them, and I hope they know it’s a positive space for their family. I hope they have babies, pets, and richness of the heart, if not of the monetary kind. I hope they are enveloped in love, and recognise that the house isn’t just bricks and mortar. It’s a place to nurture those special times, and special people.
And I pray the next home we buy, whenever that happens and wherever that is, continues to make me feel that connectedness to home. I never want to say a home is just bricks and mortar. It’s like saying a wedding ring is just a band of gold.
It’s all so much more.
PS: If you’d like to see more pictures of the house we just sold, we had a Facebook page for it during the selling process, and it has stacks of pictures here.