Letting go.
My story begins with the notice of eviction I found upon my door that was over a month old.
I had paid my rent for months in advance. I had abandoned the idea of ever owning in my city. I had come to embrace that 600 square foot apartment that I had lived in for over 7 years as my home.
There the notice was. It sent a wave of panic through me as I dropped my bags in shock and read it line by line. My building had been sold and now within 6 weeks I was to leave and find a new home… either that or face homelessness and not for the first time in my young life.
I was fortunate. I have always made great success in troubled times. The market was booming. Home prices were reaching new highs. Still a threat loomed. An impending natural faster threatened the only available place I would consider moving too.
My new home or so I thought would be upon the river. The river had been rising for over a month. A flood seemed imminent. The home upon the river might be inundated any day. I didn’t sleep well for weeks. Finally I told the owner… to take it or leave it but I would certainly offer less after the flood and so he agreed to my terms. As luck would have it the River would crest only inches from my home and on the day of possession as the realtor handed me my keys leaving me to whatever fate would be.
What can I say except I felt immensely triumphant as the River tide fell with the setting of the sun that first night as I watched from the balcony.
My new home was to be a stepping stone. I knew that. It had been a compromise. In a place where land is scarce and more precious than gold a balcony on a river seemed as good a place as any to whether a storm. How could I imagine the storm would last 18 years.
Many things can be said of the time I spent in those walls. Prisons and palaces both have wall and doors. They are entered if not by choice then most certainly and most definitely as a result of choices.
I do wonder if these walls will retain something of my memory when I am gone. The life that was lived. The moments and meals and all the people who came and went over the years. So much can be said of that.
Destiny is both written and made yet knowing which is which is another matter altogether.
A kind of madness drove me to find another type of home. A place that had its own land. A home. I worked endlessly. Perhaps I worked too much. Sacrificed too much but the hour arrived.
It began innocently enough. Meeting the agent and searching for a home. Many disappointments along that journey.
The realtor would close the blinds after each showing. The closed blinds obscuring the river. It was the beginning of my letting go. Several months passed. I began to lose hope that I might ever leave this place.
Finally I found a new home. A small bungalow without a view but with a coziness that calmed and comforted me from the moment I entered leaving the windy dark rain behind.
With papers signed and arrangements made I delayed packing. I panicked that perhaps a mistake had been made. There is so much that draws me to the new place and so little but history that holds me here.
Tonight I begin packing. It seems an awesome task yet somehow I know it will get done.
I hope I will find the joy in my new home.
Sometimes the only satisfaction in ending something is saying good bye. Life can be so ambiguous. I hope I’ve made the right choice. There’s no changing it now.
I had paid my rent for months in advance. I had abandoned the idea of ever owning in my city. I had come to embrace that 600 square foot apartment that I had lived in for over 7 years as my home.
There the notice was. It sent a wave of panic through me as I dropped my bags in shock and read it line by line. My building had been sold and now within 6 weeks I was to leave and find a new home… either that or face homelessness and not for the first time in my young life.
I was fortunate. I have always made great success in troubled times. The market was booming. Home prices were reaching new highs. Still a threat loomed. An impending natural faster threatened the only available place I would consider moving too.
My new home or so I thought would be upon the river. The river had been rising for over a month. A flood seemed imminent. The home upon the river might be inundated any day. I didn’t sleep well for weeks. Finally I told the owner… to take it or leave it but I would certainly offer less after the flood and so he agreed to my terms. As luck would have it the River would crest only inches from my home and on the day of possession as the realtor handed me my keys leaving me to whatever fate would be.
What can I say except I felt immensely triumphant as the River tide fell with the setting of the sun that first night as I watched from the balcony.
My new home was to be a stepping stone. I knew that. It had been a compromise. In a place where land is scarce and more precious than gold a balcony on a river seemed as good a place as any to whether a storm. How could I imagine the storm would last 18 years.
Many things can be said of the time I spent in those walls. Prisons and palaces both have wall and doors. They are entered if not by choice then most certainly and most definitely as a result of choices.
I do wonder if these walls will retain something of my memory when I am gone. The life that was lived. The moments and meals and all the people who came and went over the years. So much can be said of that.
Destiny is both written and made yet knowing which is which is another matter altogether.
A kind of madness drove me to find another type of home. A place that had its own land. A home. I worked endlessly. Perhaps I worked too much. Sacrificed too much but the hour arrived.
It began innocently enough. Meeting the agent and searching for a home. Many disappointments along that journey.
The realtor would close the blinds after each showing. The closed blinds obscuring the river. It was the beginning of my letting go. Several months passed. I began to lose hope that I might ever leave this place.
Finally I found a new home. A small bungalow without a view but with a coziness that calmed and comforted me from the moment I entered leaving the windy dark rain behind.
With papers signed and arrangements made I delayed packing. I panicked that perhaps a mistake had been made. There is so much that draws me to the new place and so little but history that holds me here.
Tonight I begin packing. It seems an awesome task yet somehow I know it will get done.
I hope I will find the joy in my new home.
Sometimes the only satisfaction in ending something is saying good bye. Life can be so ambiguous. I hope I’ve made the right choice. There’s no changing it now.
46-50, M
