House Found

We found the house. I knew from the moment we walked in the door there was something different about it. Something made it stand far above the rest. It wasn’t the biggest house, the newest, the cleanest, or the most obvious choice on paper. It isn’t the most convenient. Parts of it make zero sense—there is no linen closet upstairs and I am not sure what that means for the dozens of towels and sheet sets we have. Hopefully some sort of dormant ingenuity will kick in and I will figure it out.

The sellers accepted our offer over the weekend, we signed the contracts, and now we wait for the inspection and appraisals to be completed. With a good inspection and minimal problem spots, we will close at the last possible minute in May and move in June.

Now the massive project of packing up the lives, belongings, and junk of seven people begins. It is somewhat overwhelming. And I find myself becoming teary-eyed over the oddest things. Today, for example, I dropped Sammy off at his preschool and realized that I would be writing our very last tuition check to that particular school and it made me a little sad. Our kids have attended the school for the last four years—first Aidan, then Ryley, now Sammy. Tommy was to go there next fall, but it is too far to drive from our new house, so he won’t.

Another bittersweet realization came when it occured to me that Joel will have no memories of this house. He won’t remember the stairs he loved so much, the room where he slept, the spot in the kitchen where his highchair stood, the backyard hill he ran down nearly out of control but managing to stay upright. He won’t remember the next-door neighbor’s puppy, Miguel, or walking down to the mailbox to help me retrieve bills and coupons for tire alignments.

This month is going to be one of the busiest of our lives as a family.