Never thought it would happen, but it looks like our house that we grew up in is finally being sold. Not sure why I never expected it to happen. I guess I always kept putting off the idea. It was always a nice escape over the years to just "go home" and stay with the parents for the weekend. Life goes on I guess. I think it's harder for me than I realize to let go of this place. Every time I go home to help clean out all the stuff we don't need anymore, I end up saving bits and pieces. A coffee mug, another plant, an old key chain found in the back of the utensil drawer. I do feel a little better knowing that the people buying the place are actually going to fix it up a bit and live in it. I was always worried that we'd settle for a contractor buying the place and knocking it down to build yet another prefab mansion, typical on the street nowadays.
I think the house looks great now with all the floors cleaned up and the walls painted. Even my dad now regrets not doing it sooner. I don't know, I just kind of felt like getting a bunch of pictures of the place before I leave it for good. It's sad seeing it empty now, even though it looks so nice to me. So many great memories growing up there.
Even the garage is empty now! I took as many tools as I could fit in my tiny Hoboken garage, more for the fact that it didn't sit well with me getting rid of them. I'll probably never use them. I am definitely going to miss the times going back to change my car oil with my dad in the driveway. How do I end up missing a driveway? I do know that my mom could never have handled the clean out. She was always a hoarder, and it would have killed her to see us throw out so much stuff. There was just so much of everything....endless clothes, dishes, backpacks, ski equipment, THINGS. Most of it rarely or never used, and all that it accomplished was that it hurt throwing it all out.
This whole process has taken it's toll on my dad. He just seems so sad all the time. Nothing I can do about it, except to assure him that he will be less stressed out once he's settled in Florida and Colorado. The weeks and weeks of endless trips to the city dump to throw out accumulated stuff from 40 years even got to me, but I would always have the option of escaping the purge by running back to my apartment. I know he always wanted to see either me or my sister inherit this place, but what am I going to do with a four bedroom house? Such is life. I already have a ticket to fly down to Florida for a long weekend to check in on him. It's tough feeling guilty about things when there really isn't much you can do about it. But I do think there's hope in the future to put the stress behind us and savor the happy memories this place brought our family. Looking forward to ski season in Colorado.