We closed on the house yesterday. I can no longer go into my Mom's house. I went very quickly over to say goodbye to it on Thursday, but I was rushed. And I realized that there was no way to say goodbye to all my memories there. I lived there for 19ish years, off and on, and then took care of my Mom there for 20 years after that.
There are sad memories of her last days there, and happy memories from my whole life.
Playing forts in the living room, tetherball in the backyard, the large swing my dad hung from two huge trees just made for the purpose, making spritz with Mom at Christmas, many family parties hung with the scent of Glogg, American chop suey in our orange kitchen, sneaking in the back bathroom window when I forgot my key, smoking cigarettes on the sandbox, tag and hide and seek in the neighborhood, sharing a room with my sister, ruining the carpet in my bedroom with nail polish, sliding down the front stairs in our pj's.
So many thoughts that I am going to try to hold onto. It's just a container for all those memories, but I've packed them up now in my mind. Goodbye house.