GOODBYE, HOUSE ON LOT NUMBER NINE

January 31, 2010
Dear House,

This letter is bittersweet because its writing signifies the closing of one very important chapter of my adult life. It makes final the ending of a relationship, a struggle with finances and burden of inconveniences which defy words.

The first time I walked through your doors, I thought you were beautiful. You were so spacious. You had an upstairs, a downstairs and a beautiful staircase. You had a garage. You had a jetted tub! You were PERFECT!!! You were the next logical step in a relationship for Parker and me. You were the home to our prized and cherished possessions. Your expansive rooms gave our cats a place to place and play and explore. Just a few short weeks after our first visit and in what seemed like a whirlwind of activity, Parker and I found ourselves living inside your walls.

You were a shelter and briefly a home for two individuals who believed themselves in love. Yours were the walls where from within I found my voice, my strength, my courage. You were the place were tears were shed, smiles were exchanged, and love was shared. You were the place where some dreams were realized and still others were crushed. And still, hope lived on. You were the place where memories were made.

The day after closing on the house, my life-long dream of owning a baby grand piano come to reality. In your walls I was allowed to foster my skills as a pianist. You also were the birthplace of this blog. So many wonderful things came about within your walls. There were celebrations with friends inside your walls.

Some have questioned why we would live so far away from the city, far away from work and social activities. And, yes, the drive did become tiresome. The difficulty of maintaining the house became too much mentally, emotionally and financially. But that wasn’t your fault. You are four beautiful walls—walls, I suppose I’ll always remember.

Here’s my confession: Today, as I walked through you for what would be my final time, I reflected on the good times, the memories, the joy you brought into my life. I thought of the friends in the neighborhood I wouldn’t have known had it not been for your location. I thought of Parker, fondly, as I remembered the few months we shared there as a couple. For, it is on this date that I also remember the decision Parker and I made two years ago today, January 31, 2008, to separate as a couple.

I have no doubt that one day a fine family will once again inhabit your walls again. I hope for them that you will continue to provide warmth, shelter and a place where memories will flourish. For me, dear house, you provided so many wonderful opportunities. Regrets? Yes, I have a few. But, I’m thankful for the time we shared, for the memories I hold dear and for the hope I have of brighter days ahead.