Sitting in the empty shell of my house, immersed in the echo of memories, I waited for my San Diego “angels” to arrive. I was in awe of these incredible friends who were piling their kids into the car (on a moment’s notice!), driving six straight hours and graciously giving me their time, friendship and support. When I heard the truck at 11:30 pm, my body melted. Hugs, embraces, and smiling faces assured me that everything would be okay. Mini angels thought free play at midnight was the ultimate dream. They raced from room to room. Bouncing off walls, chasing Lucy, and playing as though the sun were shining brightly at dawn, they were overjoyed.
In the meantime, the “elders” scanned the house for neglected items. Oh boy! I thought I had scoured every nook and cranny. Every drawer. Cabinet. Shelf. Wrong! “Captain Angel” discovered lost treasures in every room. Art supplies. Toss. Cables. Toss. Wires. Toss. Signed basketball. Another one? How many did we have? And just when we thought we were done, drawers full of cassette tapes. Aerobics. Step classes. Classic 80s-90s. Video tapes. VCR movies. Ryan’s tennis matches. Keep? Toss? 1990 US Open Final, Agassi vs. Sampras. We laughed. It was good. I needed that. Memories.
By 1:00 am we were done. Was I ready? Not sure. This was it. I had to close the door. Really close the door. The final time. I stood in the kitchen. I looked around. I couldn’t bear it any longer. It was time to walk away. I kept telling myself, it was no longer a home. It was merely a shell. A house. A place that would become a home to new people. They would make new memories there. I don’t think I would ever go back. So I walked out the garage door. I walked to my car. My dear “angel” held my hand. She was there with me. She asked me if I was ok. I wasn’t. But I would be. I had to be. It was time to move on. And so I was. I was lucky to have the best friends there to guide me. To support me. To comfort me. We got in the car. And the hardest part was watching the garage door slowing slide down. It was like watching the end of a sitcom. The final chapter. I imagined the characters on stage. They would be standing there. Waving. Hugging. As the curtain closed. This was the end. The end of my chapter. The beginning of a new one. And so it was time.
To be continued…
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