I've thought about this moment for a while. It's been on my mind for the past few days, if not weeks. And now that it's here... I don't really know what exactly to do with it. Somehow the screen seems too bright, and that makes everything else around it seem too dark.
The overhead light is on in the room. The LED lights that I installed in December of 2020 underneath the bookshelf that overhangs my bed are not. They would cast a glare on the screen, and that's not something I'm particularly interested in dealing with.
The slats underneath the bed are all in place, for once. As a matter of fact, I just got up and fixed them before opening up my computer. And, for what is probably the final time, I am seated in a position I used to take nearly every night: with my back on my army pillow resting up against the wall, my bed acting as a makeshift couch for one.
As I mentioned earlier, I'm not sure how to go about doing this. I have so much that I want to say, and not nearly enough time to say it. That just seems to be the name of the game these days though.
THERE'S NOT ENOUGH TiiIIIIiiiME!
There's always time for a song!
And I suppose that's true. So here we are for the song. The swan song of this home, if you will.
You see, we're losing this house. I guess I always knew at the back of my mind it would probably happen eventually. Life moves on, and people move along with it. I always feared that as people made their way out of this house, we would someday be unable to find replacements for the ones leaving, and it would become unsustainable for the rest of us to carry on. One of the saddest things is that that's not even what happened.
I wasn't the first to go, but I was the one who set the chain of events in motion. I won't go into the gory details here, but the house is about to be put on the market, and much sooner than any of us expected. I wouldn't even be up here if it weren't for the fact that I needed to make something of a mad dash to get the remainder of my personal belongings out of the house before a junk guy comes in and clears everything out. Ironically, much of the stuff still left in the house was only here because it made more sense to keep it here; stuff that we wouldn't need to pack if we traveled here (like toiletries and gym clothes) or things that we could really only make the best use of while here (like rollerblades, the accompanying blading speakers, or sleds for when it snows). Some of it was sentimental things that made more sense to keep in the family home (like photo albums, home movies on VHS, or our dad's old dresser, in which he had packed a bunch of stuff that was sentimental to him, including HIS dad's things). Many of the items I had left here were things I had just never been able to fit during any of the prior trips when I was hauling stuff down to our new house piecemeal over time.
But it all has to go. Anything of value to any of us has to be taken by the end of the month. It's not fair, but that's how it is, and so I am here to do it. And I told myself that while I was here, I would sit down and write one last blog from my bed. It's funny, because it's not like I was a prolific blogger in this house. I did FAR more writing in the pages of notebooks in this room than I ever did on this keyboard. I journaled a TON in this room, and I guess that's something I'll always have. I'm glad I did that, and I hope to someday have the time to transcribe all those journals into a digital format, so that maybe someday my kids (if I get to have any of my own) will be more easily able to pore through my rambling thoughts if they so choose. But look at me go. Rambling even now and getting lost in my own side-thought. My point is, I probably wrote considerably more blog posts at the last house we rented than in this house that we bought. I guess I could check. Gimme a second and I will.
Okay yeah. Upon completion, this will be only the tenth post I ever wrote in this house. I did one for every year between 2016 and 2023, with the exception of 2019, when for some reason I was struck with an inordinate amount of inspiration and wrote THREE whole blogs. Compare that to the 14 I wrote in JUST the first year we lived in the prior house. While we were there, between 2012 and 2015, I crafted 36 posts. That's more than triple my output during this current era, and during the first stretch (between 2009 and 2011) I managed exactly 30 posts. So that puts our current lifetime total at 76. I wonder what the 100th blog will be. Considering that for the better part of the last decade, I've only gotten around to one a year, there's every chance I'll be over 50 years old by the time that happens, especially if I keep digressing like this.
I guess I just couldn't walk away from all this without expressing how I feel. And I know that once I get home, I'll feel considerably better. Once this whole trip and its associated ordeals have been overcome, and I can finally get into a reliable routine at my new residence, I will feel less the way I do now. But for now, I am sad. I am sad to be losing this place that was intended to stay in the family indefinitely. I'm sad for the people who did not have the luxury of moving away voluntarily and who are now being hastily displaced. I'm sad for all the memories that now have to live only in our hearts and minds. I'm sad I won't get to come back here from a stroll after tomorrow. I'm sad that tomorrow will be the last time I ever drive to this house and go inside.
I'm sad that things have to change.
I guess that's really the heart of the matter. What I want to say is "well things didn't HAVE to change, but they're changing anyway, and that makes me angry." And while it is true that this particular sequence of events did not play out the way it has out of necessity, it is likewise an immutable truth of the universe that things must change. Many (perhaps most) of those changes are even good. And I'm sure we will look back on this time and marvel at how well things turned out in spite (or even because) of how things unfolded in these moments. Unfortunately, none of that makes the pill any easier to swallow right now.
Three years ago right now, I was sitting down to play Doom Eternal for the first time. I just felt like I should note that. Like I said, I could spend hours detailing anecdotes that just pop into my head about what life was like in this house. Little things that only I remember, or only I even experienced, like my porridge and movie nights. Bigger things that other people were part of, like the time the power went out and we all walked around the neighborhood with flashlights because, during the height of Covid lockdowns, that was just about all you could reasonably do. Cleaning the house in preparation for moving in. Fires in the 10 minute hack job fire pit. Drive in Movie Yard.
Bringing my girlfriend into the house for her first visit. Proposing to her in the living room just before Thanksgiving. Having her invaluable help packing up my entire life over the span of a month and then moving out with her. Watching Bachelor in Paradise on our mini-Honeymoon after coming BACK up here for our wedding.
Halloween parties. New Years Parties. Christmas gift exchanges and birthdays. Board games, Jackbox sessions, and COUNTLESS games of Magic in both the kitchen and the living room.
And it's all ending. The place we all gathered, even our new little family with my wife and our kids, is going away. Well, IT'S not going anywhere. But we won't be able to come back to it.
I try to close these things off with some kind of lesson. I try to look at the bright side and come to a conclusion about why it's not so bad. And sure, the people I love will still be here when all is said and done. They just won't be HERE, and it won't be nearly as easy to get everyone together ever again. So I think, for now, I'm just gonna let myself feel the loss. And when I get home after this, I will try to let myself recover and rest in the knowledge that life goes on, and the Lord provides (and won't he do it). I will try to remember that, as much as I feel for everyone who is being forced out now, I can't do much about it from where I am other than offer moral support and remind myself that they are resourceful and strong and they will make it too, just like I have. I guess maybe that's the lesson here. We will overcome this. All it takes is to just keep going, just as it always does.
This didn't shape up like I thought it would, but when do these posts ever? On the bright side... I did it. I got one last post in before everyone vacates this house forever. And I didn't even put it off until the last night I was here. THAT will be tomorrow night. Plus, if somehow I don't manage to crank out a New Years post this year... well there's already one in the books for 2023. And that's not too bad.
But I will miss this place. After all... it's the only house on the street with a white picket fence.
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