I moved.
Both physically and mentally.
It was time.
The house I lived in for 18 years, a house filled with good ghosts and bad ghosts, the specters of a past I have both hated and loved. So what now? The answer to that is this; I finally get to go to a place I am wanted, loved and respected. And, it feels nice.
Some people are miserable after they move…I was not!
I’m not saying that no one has loved me in my past. My grandparents loved me, aunts, uncles, cousins and I’m sure, somewhere deep in the cortex of their brains, my parents and siblings loved me at one time. They had an odd way of showing it but I am sure a small sliver of like, if not love, was there briefly. And if not, I am not going to lose any sleep over it.
The stories my former house can tell are a mixture of hilarity, aggravation, joy, anger and finally, resignation. Some I recall with relish and others I wish would slip quietly from my mind, never to be replayed again.
I feel the same way about most of my childhood homes as well and we moved around a lot! But, none of those homes had my name on the deed nor did I pay the mortgage. This house was paid for not only with my hard-earned wages but also a pound of flesh here and there combined with nearly every ounce of my self-respect.
And now, its sold. A done deal. A new start for someone else and I am glad.
My only hope is that the bad juju does not stay attached to either the house or myself.
Release, restore and relax!!!! It’s over woman. You are finally free!
© 2018 L.A. Askew
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