Today, I finish packing everything in my townhouse. Tomorrow, after the movers are done, I will unpack everything in a house .9 miles away.
In the past 18 years, I’ve moved over a dozen times. Two times, I moved into houses with husbands. Every other time, I moved into apartments or townhouses, perceiving myself as incapable of taking care of a house by myself. I saw myself as fragile, a dependent, in need of help.
Tomorrow, at age 55, I move into a house all by myself. It was built in 1944 and has 1600 square feet. It has a yard with a lawn and a garden. I’ve mowed a lawn once, tough bahia in Tampa. I can generally recognize a weed and pull one or two. I do know how to find someone to garden beautifully. So I’m not a homeowner or a mower or a gardener and tomorrow I will become all three.
Here is what I intend to do in my new house:
- Write a memoir of 2006-2014. I will pen the first word on the first day I wake up there, Thursday, November 20, 2014. Make tea, feed cats, write. Unpack and everything else later.
- Watch more Disney movies. That bitch TV stole my husbands and I’ve only let her into my world again recently, scorned, banished to the floor. It’s a groaner to get down there with her to watch Monsters, Inc. Enough. A La-Z-Boy sofa with built-in recliners will be delivered on moving day. Bitch TV is not to blame. I love her, too.
- Walk around the yard. The former owner planted blueberries and blackberries and apples and some kind of wondrous exotic pear tree in the front yard. Just look. See what I see.
- Have people over.
- Acknowledge ambivalence. Eye the bamboo in the backyard, feel the rage and, to quote David Pitonyak, try to make friends with it. Ponder whether or not I will handle my projection onto the bamboo of my rage against all-things-uncontrollable with a hatchet or with a backhoe.
- Not have a glass of champagne, or a bottle, or two, to celebrate moving into my new house. In fact, never have a glass, or, inevitably, a bottle, of sauvignon blanc, or Rogue beer, or tawny port there. Ever.
What I will miss most from my townhouse:
1) The Wall
2) Tiger, my neighbors’ cat, who made himself at home in my heart.
I am moving to the neighborhood in which I lived from 4th grade until marriage. I don’t remember who lived in the house. But Donita’s parents still live next door and Adrienne’s old house is right across the street. My dad still lives in my childhood home, around the corner, .2 miles away.
At 55, I feel like I might finally have found a home.
Anne—
Thomas Wolfe notwithstanding, you can—and you have! Welcome home!
~Del
Congratulations dear Anne. and may your new space be everything you need for peace and satisfaction. I agree that your home is within you, but our outer space nurtures our inner space. I raise a glass of Irish Breakfast Tea in your direction:)
>I raise a glass of Irish Breakfast Tea in your direction:)
Made me laff, Terry! Thank you for your good wishes!
I spend a lot of time visiting your soon-to-be neighbors — watching Outlander together, going on walks…just doing things together. So don’t be surprised by spontaneous invitations to join us for walks and more!
-Kelly
Oh, my friend, Kelly, I will be so glad to see you so often!
You go, girl! I have to say… not only did I move into a house of my own, I BUILT it (well, okay, I had it built, but I designed it and made every single decision alone) – a big honking complicated one. It’s incredibly liberating and empowering. I have no doubt that you will be JUST FINE. Don’t be afraid, though, to get help with the bamboo or the plumbing or whatever else you need… finding quality people to help you is a powerful skill too. 🙂
>finding quality people to help you is a powerful skill too.
Brilliant, Lavinia! Apparently Elizabeth mows in my new neighborhood. I’m looking forward to getting in touch with her. 🙂
The nice thing about not celebrating with a glass or a bottle, one day at a time, is that you’ll actually remember where you put stuff.
Congrats on your new “place to put your stuff”. Your home is within you.
I’ll think of you today as I’m wrestling with another of Joe’s esoteric melodies. ♡
>The nice thing about not celebrating with a glass or a bottle, one day at a time, is that you’ll actually remember where you put stuff.
Made me laugh, Leah!
It’s the not falling down stairs that I appreciate most – not so laughable.
>I’ll think of you today as I’m wrestling with another of Joe’s esoteric melodies. ♡
Ooh, can’t wait to hear you and the latest from Joseph Masciello!
http://www.handshake20.com/2011/08/handshake-songwriter-releases-album.html
Oh Anne, I’m so amazingly happy for you! I too remember my first real “home” in sobriety. I finally felt “safe”, that no one would be able to take this from me. I hadn’t had a “home” in so long. I really couldn’t remember the last time I had felt safe like that. I was about 16 months in my new way of life, and really didn’t have much to put in it, but it was mine. I was safe, secure, and scared half out of my mind, but there was also a calmness and peace. The promises were coming fast, and I had to do a lot of breathing.
I’m so proud of you, and really enjoying watching your journey unfold. I too hope to be invited over for a cup of tea. Tea is more than enough, it’s perfect, calming, soothing, and relaxing.
As for the wall you will miss in your townhouse, it can easily be recreated if you want. This is your home, you can do anything!
>This is your home, you can do anything!
Hard to take in, Kelly! The owner showed me the sun room today and the doors were open and I said, “Are we allowed to do that?”
Much learning and growing ahead!
Rounds of tea for everyone!
Dear Anne,
Welcome back to the ‘hood! My parents still live down the street. Enjoy your new home! I know from experience it’s scary/overwhelming/exhilarating and joyous, all at the same moment. Day by day, you will tweak the areas necessary to make it your own. You, my strong friend, will be just fine!!!!
xoxo, Maggie
Thank you, Maggie! Slipped my mind while I was writing that your parents are still on the same street!
>scary/overwhelming/exhilarating and joyous, all at the same moment
That is SO it! CRAZY! Thank you again!!
Anne:
What a lovely thought and act. I’m truly happy for you. Your initial moments will be wondrous.
When I moved into the first house I ever bought for myself, it was magic from the moment I first walked ahead of the realtor and onto the porch. “This’ll do,” I said. The house had spoken to me. Really.
The first night there, with furniture not completely placed as it would be, pictures leaning against the wall where they would hang, dishes in boxes, I found myself wandering the rooms in the semi-darkness, touching everything, sitting on the radiators, looking out the window at the half-lit street, quietly walking the back yard, smiling.
I was truly happy at all that had come to be in my brief sobriety. I had been sober about three years and the “promises” of the program I was practicing were overwhelming me. I felt blessed. Still do. Every minute of every day.
I’m so proud of you, ma’am. Hope you’ll invite me over for a cup of tea.
Oh, Dan, to hear that you, too, got a house early is balm to my uncertainty! One wonders if one does things too early…
>Hope you’ll invite me over for a cup of tea.
I will! Got tears in my eyes. I would want to offer you the finest beverage I could provide! I’m so glad that, with tea, “This’ll do.”