We are less than a week from the “For Sale” sign being posted in the front yard and I really thought I would be a little more emotional. Granted I haven’t actually seen it in front of my house yet and that could evoke a whole bunch of emotions, but right now there’s not much.
I’ve gone from going there every single day spending hours sorting through eight years of stuff to stopping by every few days to check on the place, pay workers and look for vegetables in the garden. The house is now empty, freshly painted and very quiet. Strangely quiet. It no longer feels like my home, which I think is a good thing. Even my garden is feeling less and less like my garden.
When I drive through roads I’ve driven hundreds, even thousands of times they no longer have that familiar feel, I’m seeing things very differently. My neighborhood seems like any other neighborhood. The people walking on the sidewalk are just people I pass. It’s probably my brain protecting itself from being unhappy or too emotional, and for this I am thankful. Even with all this feeling of detachment I’ve already decided that when the “For Sale” sign does go up I will go there alone to see it for the first time. I’ll take a picture of it and save it.
Speaking of pictures, I think I’ll go through one last time and take pictures of my garden. These pictures will serve two purposes, one, so I have a visual memory of it, and two, so I have motivation for another garden. Even though I’ve vowed to make the next house nothing like this one, I still like the idea.