Goodbye My Friend

Three more sleeps. Only three more sleeps left in the house until it closes this Friday. The kids are all away at school now and Rick has been in the UK for three almost four weeks. The house is mostly empty and there are only a few items left to tuck into our new Ontario home which incidentally is 10' x 15'. Now that's downsizing! The stairs sound hollow when I clunk up and back down again. The kids' rooms are all empty. I wander from room to room and picture Keaton with his head buried in a sports game on his PSP, a rhythmic thumping comes from Channing's room as he listens to dubstep, and the blow dryer whirs in Molly's and above she sings along to Michelle Branch or Taylor Swift. The house is silent now. It has become a shell. I cry mostly because it is hard to let go and say goodbye but also because I am grateful for what we had here as a blended family. We beat the odds in these rooms. We meshed together and raised our children like a traditional family. Not many kids from split families had the benefits of stability, strong values, and mutual love and respect. And yet as difficult as the last three weeks without Rick have been I am anxious to move on. He has settled nicely in his new school and so amazed at the difference in not only the behaviour of the students but the general positive and supportive nature that permeates the building. I am so happy that he has found a place where he will thrive as a teacher. Goodness knows he deserves this. He is such a dedicated and talented teacher and I want nothing more than to see him content and appreciated as an outstanding professional. Working for two years at the Leigh in Dartford was his bootcamp and now is the time to reap the benefits of his labour. Just writing about him makes me realize how strange it has been being here without him. We have never been apart for more than a week and this has been a true test and testament to the strength of our marriage. He has been busy making our new house in Harlow a home and each day he writes an email so I have this to read when I wake in the morning. I miss his laugh and I miss his arms around me. Life carries on, no doubt, but there is just something odd about closing out the house, our house, without him. Having said that, I am almost there. There is such a sense of relief when I come home and see the "sold" sign at the end of the drive.

This means we can turn the page on this chapter of our lives and see what the next one brings. I am so proud of what I have been able to accomplish in order to make this all possible. It is a time that I am most grateful for being focused and organized and my daily lists and weekly planning have proved to be invaluable. There has certainly been no time for being flaky or scattered. But there has been time for tears, catching up with good friends, tying up loose ends, and taking stock of what I have and what I have had. So the next time I write I will be settled back in England. The house will be sold and I will have said my last goodbyes. Goodbye, my friend. We got off to a bumpy start but you grew on me over the years and I was able to call you home. Now it's time to say farewell. Goodbye, my friend. xo