Drifting thoughts of a snowflake

Monday, April 18, 2005

Movement

Turning the key I hear the familiar sound of the lock sticking. The door opens and the hardwood floors smell like they’ve always smelled. It’s the combination of a million foot steps and paw prints and a couple of hand and knees that have graced those floors.

Boxes everywhere, I pass through them like a maze to the backdoor. Realizing this could be my last time standing here, I look out the windows to the old oaks swaying in the breeze. I hear the wooden wind chimes faintly through the glass and smile.

I remember the night we closed on the house. We ordered pizza and drank beer with our favorite couple. We laughed and plaid drinking games breaking in the old pine nook the former owners left behind. We made the first of many ring marks in that soft pine surface from slamming our hands down with the dice.

Funky D ran outside into the backyard at one point, looked down on the rock garden that use to lay under a swing, and flung himself down. Pretending he was swimming in the rocks we laughed and hugged one another. We drank more and sang songs.

When the couple left, the X and I broke in the house my streaking through it. It was a mad dash through all the rooms. A right of passage us since we had never owned a home before.

All the parties. All the cops. All the traffic and early morning breakfasts for twelve. It seems forever ago.

We close on the house on Thursday. We have a bottle of champagne that someone gave us as a wedding gift that we never open. It’s in the fridge for Thursday’s celebration. I’m sure the giver never thought we would use it to signify our final step together.

The flowers planted, the rooms painted, and we now live in separate worlds. Our favorite couple is just as divorced as we are, but we pretty much stay in touch. We move on because we have to. We move on because we need to. May the Buddha that has always lived in the house, and been handed down from owner to owner, continue to watch over the new lives that fill the space. May they be as lucky as we were to have spent time inside those walls.

by body item ;

11 Comments:

Blogger Anonymous said...

peace.

and let it go. all of it.

love, me

7:10 PM

 
Blogger Larry Jones said...

Bittersweet and beautiful. Good luck to you.

10:57 PM

 
Blogger mona said...

what a beautiful blessing.

you, snowflake, have a gorgeous heart.

11:29 AM

 
Blogger That Girl said...

one of the hardest things i ever did was sell "the house" and all it was supposed to represent. only way to go ahead is to lock the door behind you and not go back.

8:13 PM

 
Blogger ErntsBloggo said...

cheers.

2:39 PM

 
Blogger newspell said...

oh, god... you are good. like chocolate covered pretzels... sweet and salty. not many can do that.

6:15 PM

 
Blogger Johnny said...

I blame the parents, and society, and everyone else who said there was a fairy tale.

Liars.

6:45 AM

 
Blogger Anonymous said...

fucking johnny, that was so well said and you are so right on.

but i still hope for that ending.

1:50 PM

 
Blogger Lunatic said...

...and so that chapter comes to a close. How does the new one begin?

3:37 PM

 
Anonymous Anonymous said...

That blog entry should have been called bowel movement.

6:40 AM

 
Blogger DrinkJack said...

Just the close of one chapter and the beginning of another. Enjoy the simple life and make it all your own. Never surrender.

5:23 PM

 

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