|Posted by karenandkurt on September 26, 2013 at 3:30 PM|
As I write this, we are almost done moving the last drips and draps out of Misty Lake and cleaning the townhouse. I never realized how emotional this process is! Stuff just seems to keep coming out of the house! It’s amazing what two people, who lived full single lives for 15 years, can cram into one house during the first few years of marriage.
We have loved Misty Lake. The neighborhood – our corner of it – has been beautiful. The pond made a huge difference in helping to create this haven. We have song birds, ducks and geese. The woods around the water are filled with bradford pears that bloom with delicate white flowers, pine trees that are dark green against the snow and graceful trees with leaves that turn purple in the fall. There are rabbits galore! I saw a woodchuck the other day. There are even black rat snakes, a creature completely new to me, that seem to think the middle of the parking lot is a great place to catch some rays.
We have made some dear friends in Tom and Hattie. It has been great having Dave around the corner from us – my non-gourmet snowstorm pizza has been his favorite thing to joke about since he was snowed in with us during the Snowmageddon.
Our garden. Oh, the garden. We are leaving behind more than a patch of soil. It has been a source of joy and life for us. Kurt told me that he had almost proposed to me while we were working in the garden – and then Sha’Ori tripped him as he tried to sneak away to get the ring. The time wasn’t right, but the garden was right for us.
Cleaning, packing and removing has given me the strange sense of what it must be life to clean out someone’s house after they’ve died. The first stage of our life together has ended and a new one is beginning. But the death of that first stage has had its own sorrow and I felt that in cleaning and packing.
This was our first home together. The first garden. The first Christmas. Sha’Ori’s last home.
Each time we walk into the empty townhouse there is a gut reaction. Like something’s wrong. Or like this is temporary and we’ll be back shortly. We look for Luca and open the door cautiously, like he might be there. I stand in the center of the room and pray that Sha’Ori is where is she is supposed to be, and not caught here, won’t be left behind here.
The backyard has been our retreat. Morning coffee, afternoon garden, evening drinks with friends. The one place to hide from a busy world. The one place to reconnect with friends and neighbors.
It’s tough to leave some place you love. Having to do it over the drawn-out course of six weeks has taken an emotional toll. We are tired. We are ready to rest before beginning again.
St. Denis is beautiful. The house is awesome. The park is wonderful. The history of the place is fascinating. The neighborhood and old village are welcoming. Our new neighbors have been excited to welcome us to the community. St. Denis is the right place and the right choice for this next adventure.
We are grateful for our sojourn on Misty Lake and that may be why there is some sadness that on Monday we will return the keys.