I entered a new stage of saying goodbye to my childhood home today: the life passing before my eyes stage. As I become increasingly aware that the house is actually in the process of being sold, different things have happened that have surprised me, and today it was like my grandmother died all over again (because she had inhabited the rooms, because she always came in through the garage and put her leather purse and her keys on top of the washing machine, because she sat in the living room in the chair with the straight back because it was most comfortable to her). The holiday meals came rushing back, years and years of them, with all of us around the dining room table which was only made bigger with the leaves my father put in for special occasions, right there in front of the china hutch lined with pieces from my grandmother and my great-grandmother on my father's side, and other pieces I had purchased for my mother while attending graduate school in Idaho. Every time I returned home from any place I have ever lived, it was always up that same hill, into the same driveway, through the same garage door (in the immaculate garage which was a Pries family trademark and a joint effort from both of my parents), and we have always had a dog, different dogs (mostly Cocker Spaniels), but there was always a dog there at my feet, and water glasses in the cabinet above the dishwasher so I could pour myself a drink. Now I think about the key on my key ring, the key to home, and how it won't be long until it no longer fits in the door.
I once heard it said that the best part of a vacation is planning it, and that the vacation itself is never actually as good as you think it's going to be, but I have never been able to live my life that way. The planning is hard, the weeks leading up, the saving of the money, the wondering how it will go. I just want to get through the preliminary stuff and be there on the vacation. I want every vacation to be the best vacation ever. I have always wanted to make everything really good, and my greatest anxiety comes from worrying I'm not appreciating whatever it is enough, that I'm letting something go. I think about everything that happens afterward. I can never stop thinking about any of it. I lived years of my life in that house, I returned to it, I moved away from it again. I experienced moments in its rooms that I will never forget (because today Elizabeth reminded me I have an amazing memory), and all that really matters is I can say I experienced everything fully and it never once disappointed.
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I once heard it said that the best part of a vacation is planning it, and that the vacation itself is never actually as good as you think it's going to be, but I have never been able to live my life that way. The planning is hard, the weeks leading up, the saving of the money, the wondering how it will go. I just want to get through the preliminary stuff and be there on the vacation. I want every vacation to be the best vacation ever. I have always wanted to make everything really good, and my greatest anxiety comes from worrying I'm not appreciating whatever it is enough, that I'm letting something go. I think about everything that happens afterward. I can never stop thinking about any of it. I lived years of my life in that house, I returned to it, I moved away from it again. I experienced moments in its rooms that I will never forget (because today Elizabeth reminded me I have an amazing memory), and all that really matters is I can say I experienced everything fully and it never once disappointed.
