Closure

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It's the first time I've met her. First time I've met any of the children who belong to the house we are leaving. She's sixteen and when she introduces herself she reminds me of people I know who are older than me. She has freckles and a smile like Fable's and when I invite her to come in and sit with us, she thanks me. Because it's still our house. 

She takes a baby in her arms and follows me back to the nursery, where we sit on the floor across from one another and introduce ourselves.

Are you excited to move back?

She is.

And which will be your room?

This one.

I forget for a moment that I'm twice her age, regressing to my old habits of speech, mannerisms. I want to know where she's going to hang her Jason Priestley poster. I want to know what color she's going to paint the walls.
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The day we got the call that we'd have to move out I was in the same place. I was sitting in the room with the babies, just hours after we took them home from the hospital and Hal was outside yelling at the landlord on his phone. And here we are, nine months later, Hal outside, laughing with the landlord and me, with the babies and the girl who would inhabit their room.

Her room.

We talk for a while with ankles crossed, our backs against two different walls. We talk about school and being sixteen and her favorite subjects. She tells me about her summer intern program at UCLA. About her younger sister and brother.

"I'm the oldest of three, too."

 We talk about the babies as they crawl back and forth between us.

"They're so different it's crazy."

And then her father appears, says hello and shakes my hand. He gives me the name of the man that will repaint this house, the contractor that will redo the floors. He got a great deal and maybe we'll want to hire the same team.


We do, thank you.


And then he tells his daughter it's time to go.

"It was really nice to meet you."

"It was really nice to meet you, too."

"Good luck with your move."

"Good luck with yours."
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And then she hugs me goodbye and I hug her back and we're standing in her room and their room and our room and all at once, I let go. Every bit of anger and frustration I've had in this process, of losing a house I assumed would be ours for the long haul is suddenly gone.

This was supposed to happen and I'm grateful. I'm grateful that it worked out for us and and I'm grateful that it worked out for them. Grateful that my favorite room in the house will belong to her. 
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GGC

36 comments:

Grumble Girl | 1:43 PM

You. Go. Girl.

Enjoy it all... can't wait to red about all your new adventures in your new digs.

Sending much love your way, sistah... xox

Adventures In Babywearing | 1:47 PM

Oh I'm so so glad. Peace for you all!

Steph

Susan | 1:48 PM

A great outlook on a new adventure!

Stephanie | 1:48 PM

It's funny how things that don't happen according to our plan can end up being the very best things! Happy for you!

Charlie | 1:48 PM

My sentimentality gets to me when I think about losing my center, my home. I've grown so accustomed to moving though, living here in LA, that I think I might be numb to it.

Every time I visit San Francisco, I'm drawn to the house I grew up in. The moment a house stops being a home is drastic. Like a limb, removed.

I think it all started when the house I lived in as a young teenager burned down. The firefighters initially tried to blame me for the blaze. But I had nothing to do with it. We didn't have any renter's insurance. I had no clothes. It was 3 days after Christmas.

So the question becomes, have I numbed out or am I just looking for my center again? Hope you find yours. Enjoy it.

Charlie
http://howtobeadad.com

Calypso | 1:59 PM

Oh Becca, how I love you.. your spirit.. your words... your thoughts.. excellent work.

alix | 2:00 PM

This is so wonderfully written. You are an inspiration, lady. xo

The Benningtons | 2:17 PM

Beautiful. And that last photo is lovely in so many ways.

glenda | 2:19 PM

so happy... things do happen for a reason... a full circle of such. :)

Anonymous | 2:27 PM

This gave me a little tear. Maybe it's no coincidence, as I'll be moving on Saturday as well, to my first home, owned and all. People cam ebefore us, and people will come after us, but it's never struck me as strongly as it is with this move.

Hurray for closure and full circles! And the coming adventures!

Hailey | 2:45 PM

You are amazing! Thanks for making me cry like a baby. Good luck with your move. This will open a world of opportunities, I just know it. xo

Kim | 2:55 PM

Just like you know, a house is a building. A home is what happens when we inhabit something, make it our own. Even in your pictures, the rooms with the furniture seem ghostly. Just bones. With people and things and linens and style and decorations, it's fuller, alive. It brings us together.

Congrats. And don't think that a higher power wasn't pushing you to something permanent and stable (and a big responsibility) just when you needed and deserved it. (How can a style and decor guru not own her own place?) Congrats again.

guarros | 4:38 PM

Beautiful.

I don't know how to put it, I guess it's like "bitter sweet" but something else? I hate that description for some reason. Beautifully healing? Painful? I don't know - you are the writer! What an incredible experience to have, that release. Thank you for sharing.

Anonymous | 4:42 PM

What a lovely ending to a new beginning.

Karen

MissScientistSF | 5:48 PM

I can't tell you how much your stories recently have resonated with me, and helped me deal with my current move. It is for the best, it is back to California, back to family and friends, back to a great job... but it means leaving this home. This home that my husband and I reworked with our own hands. 3000 miles away from our previous lives, we started our own. Our own holidays, our own new friends, it is where we became us.

Bittersweet is the perfect word for it. But seeing you go through it (and with the memories of babies... oh I will be a wreck) has been so helpful. Thank you for sharing your beautiful stories with us.

Robin | 6:25 PM

I never comment, and I read your posts through google reader so I hardly add to your stats, and for that I apologize, but I just had to take a minute to tell you how much I adore you and your family. I share many of your posts on my facebook feed and they are all met with the same feelings that prompted me to share. I'm a long time blog reader and I like to share those that resonate with me. I think you are amazing and my children know who your kids are and want to travel to CA from OK to meet them.

Robin | 6:25 PM
This comment has been removed by the author.
Tirzah | 6:57 PM

Perfect :) happy moving!

SpillingOutBeautiful | 7:34 PM

As only Semisonic could say it:

"...every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end"

Mama Smith | 8:03 PM

Sniffle...

AMD | 8:38 PM

Rebecca: I don't often comment on blogs; in fact, I'm not sure I've ever commented here, but I just wanted to say thank you for your wonderful displays of faith. I'm in the middle of facing a job situation that started out bad but is working out for the better. I've been reading your blog since before Fable was born and I've learned so much from you about trusting what the Universe has in store. Thank you.

Laura - Are We Nearly There Yet Mummy? | 1:44 AM

As a long term renter with children I've been in the same situation as you ... the initial anger has always subsided as I realise that what we're moving onto has always been a better option.

Krystal Schmidt | 4:58 AM

I'm so glad that you could get closure on this beautiful house. I loved every word of this post and at the end felt "what a perfect transition to a new adventure." Congrats on Esteban!

Arnebya | 5:36 AM

It always amazes me the ease with which we can let go of something we are holding onto but aren't actively trying to hold on to, yet it's still there. That's the best way to describe it: it was meant to be this way. THE SIGNS DON'T LIE, HAL!

Virginia-Ann | 6:47 AM

Its so fitting that it all worked out as it did. I too was thrilled the day we moved and met the newest people that would be living in my home, the only place I knew of as home. Yes I had gotten married, had a child and was awaiting the completion of the very first house my husband and I would build and own. Somehow meeting the girl who would be living in what was my childhood bedroom, the same bedroom that my wedding dress had hung, something I never imagined could happen after I had moved out at 18 and only my dad would speak to me! To this day I long for the tiny radiator that stuck 1/2" from the wall, and the double doors of the funky closets, the small drawer under those closets that stuck from over 100 years of painting, and the remnants of cowboy wallpaper under the blue flowered paper now on the walls that was the paper my dad put up when they first purchased the house for my oldest brother, then only 4. Those people still own that house, as I check online property records every so often. Both my parents are now gone but that house and the memories live on in my mind.

Jenna | The Paleo Project | 8:10 AM

You tell it so well. Is it weird that your writing reminds me of my own? I don't mean to say I'm as fantastic of a writer as you, (or am I - ha ha) I just mean to say we tell our stories while we're in them and how they connect from before and how they'll bring us to the next thing and I love it. Just discovered your blog a week ago. I'm happy about it.

Wanda Lynn | 8:20 AM

This is so sweet it made me teary eyed, you are such a great story teller!

Heather Sullivan | 9:02 AM

Gorgeous. There is nothing better than feeling content within the situation you are in. NOTHING. It is those moments that make all the strife possible. <3

Kendall Hoover | 12:05 PM

This is so touching. Thank you for sharing. Good luck for your next home.



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Joanna | 12:42 PM

SOB sob sob sob.

We had babies within months of each other and now we're moving at the same time FROM those houses where we brought our babies home... sob sob sob.

Still waiting for my closure, but happy you found yours. I guess I'll just keep putting things in boxes and wait. xoxo

Sand Juri | 12:46 PM

... and then. There's peace.

I hate change. I hate leaving my comfort zone and I hate dragging people I love out of their comfort zone. But there's this saying.

Change is good.

Why, I don't know. But it is. And that's what I hold onto when drastic changes, like leaving your home, come along.

In the very end, home is where your heart is. And in your case it's in those five lovely people around you. I am so happy Esteban made it and you guys know where to go. There is nothing worse like not knowing where to go, where to belong.

And, I love that you guys could connect to the family moving in your home. I can totally relate. I would want the home I love and I cherish to be treated nicely. I'd love to leave a friend to a friend.

Wishing you all the best for your grand move.

Anonymous | 2:10 PM

Chills

Anonymous | 8:25 PM

Goosebumps.

Mia | 3:33 PM

This post made my heart melt. So warm and loving. Good for ALL of you.

Stephanie | 7:54 AM

Your writing is so beautiful!

Ray | 5:42 PM

Bittersweet, is all I can say.