Two weeks from today the movers come to pack up everything, two days later the moving van will be full of all our stuff and pulling away, and that day, Friday, we drive away from here for the last time, going to the new house. Just two weeks left here, and I’m getting a little sad. As nice as the new place is, and as much as I’m looking forward to living in Oregon, I’m starting to feel the loss.
I’ve lived in this place for over 22 years, it was the first home I bought, after renting all those years. Being single, it was pretty hard to save up enough to make a decent down payment, but finally I had enough, and bought this place new. This was an empty shell, no window coverings, no furniture, the yard was raw dirt, no bookshelves. Year by year I added everything that’s here, planted and tended the garden, and have been content. Over time I made it into the nest I wanted it to be, and when I got married my wife’s stuff came in too. It’s nice, comfortable, but it’s too darn small.
I’ve lived in southern California all my life, pretty much within 50 miles of where I’m sitting now, typing this post. I worked here, I have many friends here, all the places I know are here, from parks to beaches to the nearby pet shop where I buy cat food. I have a memory or story about most everyplace, and I know the county like the back of my hand.
Come November 14, I’ll have to use Google or GPS to find a gas station, a grocery store, the post office, everything. So much is changing: new neighborhood, new medical plan, new doctors, new driver’s license (I’ll have to take a driving test, which I haven’t done in ages), new utility companies, new television stations. Except for what we’re taking with us, everything will be new to us, everything will be different.
It’s a little scary, but mostly I’m feeling sad just now. Starting tomorrow there’s a lot to do, we have to start getting this place lined up for selling. But today maybe I’ll just take some time to look at this place, the rooms, garden, the way the light moves across the high ceilings, the sounds. It’s been a good place to live. It’s been home, for a long time. I’m going to miss it.