Tuesday, November 15, 2016

The Last Time

April 2011, Showing the kids our new house.

So often in life something ends and we stand stupefied and wish we’d have known it was coming to an end. “If only I’d known last time was the last time!” I myself have thought or uttered those words countless times. In that respect, I guess my situation could be worse.

I am walking around my house like a ghost. I am haunting my own house. I was told via a brief typed letter delivered certified mail, that I have to leave my home. I can’t even tell you what the 5.5yrs here have meant to my family and I. I knew several things immediately: that this was irreversible fact and I had to accept it. I also knew that had I not been abruptly put out I would have stayed in this house until my children were adults.

In fact, I’ve seen my kids grown up in this house in my mind many times. I’ve imagined my oldest moving out and turning his room into a craft room while consulting with my youngest on updated room colors. I only imagined my husband and I leaving this house because our children were grown and it was time to travel.

Whatever I wanted or imagined, this is happening. We have to go, because the landlord (who acknowledges what amazing tenants we have always been) wants to give our house to someone else. They have the legal right, but it stills stings. We have to vacate during the holidays in the middle of the school year.

There's a certain oxygen deprivation when you are forced to make a big change especially quickly. There's a separate element to the heartbreak because you have no control. I have never been asked to leave anywhere I've ever lived. It's terrifying that this could happen, is happening. I'm strong and I will heal from this someday, but it makes it hard to trust anyone.

So, I breathe and put one foot in front of the other and try to focus on the task at hand. Maybe this is an opportunity for a grand adventure? A wonderful change? Some future I haven’t imagined a hundred times? We keep swimming. As always, I do what’s best for my kids. I smile and tell them what they need to know. I tell them not to worry. Behind closed doors, I cry. But I seek out the joy in the re-organize and cleanse of the belongings that won’t fit in our next temporary home. I focus on Thanksgiving because this time I know it’s the last time.