Today marks my final day with the apartment. I’m meeting someone who wants the table and chair I offered free to a good home, and my son who is taking the big flat screen TV he had loaned me and the mounting bracket (because it was a pricey one I got half price). I’ll wipe down and vacuum the place one last time, pitch any remaining crap and when I lock the door it will be for the final time. Next week I will meet the management company to turn over keys and do a final walk through with them so I can get the security deposit.
It was the place mom died.
It was my home for the past year.
But it will always be the place mom/Gigi/grandma passed away to so many in the family that struggled when there, so being done with it isn’t really a bad thing at all. I was fine there despite her body having been on the floor of the living room for several hours before the funeral home could pick her up. No longer did I use the bathroom and think each time, “this is where mom died”. But it did sit under the surface of my mind and I’ve come to recognize that this was only a place of transition for me. Following all advice about loss, I didn’t make any major changes in my situation for one year after her death. Okay just short of that, 11 months.
I will miss my sister being one floor away, but to be honest we spent more time on Marco Polo and facetime than we did with each other. Though there was comfort in the knowledge we only were steps away, we’ve both grown up and become more independent than ever since we lost mom.
Home is where I am now, living in Hidden Valley with my daughter, son-in-law and grandsons. This house, these woods, the lakes, the giggles, laughs, chaos and little feet racing through the house and the squeals, THIS is home! I love it here, love the insanity, love coffee with my daughter again multiple mornings a week. I LOVE my life here. My porch swing, the robin with a nest above the swing, waking to the sounds of birds because I can safely leave my windows open all night. Even the drive too and from work, though a bit longer, is long enough to psych up for work and decompress on the way home.
The door today will close and I’ll not be sad at all.
Marti Gardner 