Final Walk Through: Forward Movement

Dealing with the horrible movers who held my posessions hostage made last week difficult. My last night in the old house was Monday the 2nd, however dealing with them put off the final walk through until last night. An entire week. And until last night when I walk to the house alone for the final time, I had not had the opportunity to really think about that house:

As I walk through this empty house alone, for the final walk-through, before anyone else arrives. I walk around it’s empty rooms hear my footsteps Echo back from the empty walls. And I remember everything. 

This house was so much more than a home for me. This is where we brought my father, after losing Mom. It was the last place he truly lived, and was happy, or as happy as he could be with Mom. And while I was blessed to be in this place is beautiful wonderful home – there are many memories a family movie Nights, of conversations, and of planning. But as I’ve already moved in to the new home, this house doesn’t feel like home anymore. 

And it is obvious now more than ever that it is God’s plan that I move forward. Because now as I walk this house and these walls, I realize how much pain was here as well. The pain of dealing with thr loss of both my parents. The confusion pain anxiety, desperation, and overwhelmingness of taking care of Dad, and not knowing what to do or how to do it. All the fighting with the horrible X. It seems like just as many happy memories there are as I look around this this house, there are just as many painful ones as well. 

There is the stove which I cooked for Dad three meals a day. And where he stood watching carefully over me as he had me make a grilled cheese sandwich for him exactly the way Mom would. And then there’s his master bedroom. Which was his little tropical getaway. It later became my room as well. But it is also the room, where he fell so many times, where he got hurt the last time before he went in the hospice, it is whete he was afraid, and where I heard him say goodnight to Mom night after night, as he cried because he missed her so much. 

The upstairs bedroom, which was mine and the horrible X’s. At first it was a place of love, we would sit and talk all night and make love, and plan, and laugh, and love. It soon became a place of strife, and argument, and coldness, and cruelty, a place full of anything but love. And then the room where he stayed, after he decided he could no longer be in the same space as I. It is where he would retire to, and watch videos a video games, and who knows what else. It is where I stood in front of him crying, and where he mocked me and made fun of me when I was in the most vulnerable state. 

And the deck, wherr I spent countless nights looking up at the stars, saying goodbye and talking to my parents. Or I spent looking for fireflies and signs that they were still around and still watching over me.

And even this area, seems to be painful. Everywhere I go there’s reminders of this life from the past year. Just down the road there’s where the ex’s parents lived, who I hoped would end up being my in-laws. There’s also the little places the X and I would go to eat and talk, and plan, and laugh. And then there’s the places where we would fight. The restaurant where he took the ring and the cross my mother gave me, and threatened to throw them into the trash or into the Woods. 

There’s all the places that we with my dad, to find him a Reuben because he loved them so much. There’s all the little places around for the X and I would go together, or drive, or just be together. 

And this is also the house, where I tried to get me evicted, calling landlord’s and telling them lies about me and my lifestyle. Telling them that I would have wild parties and destroy their house. EDITORS NOTE: No damage was found in the final walk-through, because I don’t have some crazy wild lifestyle.

And moving forward there is no space for those painful memories. I will always remember my parents, but I want no memories of the Ex. And that is what rhis house has become, a musuem of the ex. No more. While loving someone is never a mistake, loving the wrong person is very costly. It is time to cast all of that out. 


And now I sit in my bright new wonderful home, full of boxes ans things that need to placed, and I am happy.  There are no bad or painful memories here. The slate is clean and I can make this chapter of my life anything I want it to be. 

And that is for love to be so present in my life that it is tangible.