We're in the midst of selling our home in Oregon, while living in Germany. Our renter is buying it, so at least we aren't going through the entire marketing process (thank you, thank you!), but the next few days are complicated, what with a nine hour time difference, and faxing papers back and forth, and consulting by phone with a real estate lawyer. And that's just the start! But in about a month, we should be finished, if all goes as planned.
I think I've mostly mourned the fact that I'll no longer be tending to my lavender, rosemary, and tarragon plants. And that the tulips and lilacs each spring will now be blooming for other owners. We do need to alert them to the presence of doggie graves in the backyard ("don't roto-till near the upper fence--you might bring up a Golden Retriever or German Shepherd skeleton..."). It is time to sell, I believe that, it's just all the memories connected with this house. Danielle, our 21 year old, moved into the place with us as a tiny seven month baby. All three kids learned to ride their bike in the cul-de-sac, David flipping over his handlebars in the process. Anna climbed the cherry tree every summer with Briana, from next door. And so on.
So, I look forward to whatever's ahead--but I did love that home and neighborhood. Adieu, dear home. May you be blessed with good raingutters and solid beams. Most of all, may the love and good times we experienced within those walls never be forgotten.
P.S. I know, this is a bit sappy, but that's how I'm feeling.