All Good Things

Well...the house is now someone else's.

As with all things having to do with my childhood home, the path was neither smooth nor expected. A week before the scheduled closing, our agent called and was like, "Hey, you're not going to believe this, but there has been a mess-up and the closing is actually tomorrow and not next week. Surprise!" And after the artery in my right temple stopped throbbing, my sister and I agreed to let it go early. Sadly, though,  we didn't really get the goodbye with the house we were planning.

But what the hell. I met my childhood best friend for one final blue Icee walk and we stood out in the driveway and giggled for a couple of hours the night before the closing, and for a just a little while I was twelve again. That's really all the goodbye I needed, I suppose.

The girl (sorry, young woman) who bought my childhood home looked twelve herself when I met her, and I was tempted to ask her where she was planning on parking her Big Wheel when she moved in. Smartly, though, I stopped myself and simply wished her the best. She's getting a good house. A good home.

A chapter in my life has ended. A chapter in hers has just begun.

May her story in that house be a happy one. All things considered, mine was. A comedy, even, in the end.

Goodbye, house.