TheBanyanTree: One Of Those Days

[NancyIee at aol.com]

Today was my last day/night in my house.

Yes, it was the right decision to sell, and the buyers gave me three months 
after closing to sort, pack, and get the new place for habitation. (It still 
isn't ready, but that's another story)

I was able to take my time, and it wasn't hard choosing what to take, what to 
throw, what to go to the Goodwill. Most of the furnishings were in place when 
we bought the place, nearly twenty years ago, so no real family or historical 
value lost.

Yet, today was my last day. Tomorrow, I lock the door for the last time, walk 
the beach one last time, check on the caladiums and orchids for the last 
time. And leave.

Funny day. I went out to pick up some Chinese for a quick supper as we packed 
the last items. The sun had gone down, the traffic was light, the neighbor 
waved as she went by walking her dog. I pulled out and heard the chew of my 
tires on the shell driveway, and it made me cry.  I won't hear that sound again.

I won't hear the surf when I sleep with my windows open. I won't hear the 
whipppoorwill or the night frogs. I wont hear the neighbor's dog barking as 
Moonie, my hundred-and-one-year-old neighbor takes her morning walk. A familiar 
sound, the bay of the neighbor's beagle and Moonie's, "oh shut up will you."

I won't be raking up the oak leaves, or checking the lemon tree for blossoms. 
Oh, I know, there are other lemon trees. There are other oak trees.  But, not 
in this particular combination. 

No longer will I feel that special aura of this place I have loved for so 
long. The smell of the cypress paneling, the cool feel of the Mexican tile on 
bare feet, the squeak of a faucet, the feeling of shelter and haven under the 
arching boughs of the trees. This place is truly a haven. It saved my life, 
literally.

And, now, my ownership is over, my tenancy here is down to minutes.

Farewell, place of my heart.

NancyLee