I write a lot of posts in my head, apparently. And then I’m surprised when I finally get around to looking at LJ and none of them are there. Where is my thought-transfer writing apparatus? It’s over there with the matter transmitter that no one has bothered to build me yet. Damn it. Get busy, matter-transmitter-builders! What are you WAITING for??
If there was a matter transmitter, I wonder if it would be as expensive as flying. I would hope it wouldn’t take as long. And that I wouldn’t need to worry about getting COVID-19 while I was in transit.
My mom put her house on the market this week. The whole process is going really fast and it’s freaking her out a bit, which is freaking me out a bit, too. It’s really, really killing me that I can’t just BE there to help her. I’m considering figuring out a way to go anyway, but there are so many risks and issues with traveling right now, that I’m really torn about what to do. Plus there’s the whole not wanting to go to the land of the insane and the home of the election from hell. If the house sells quickly, she won’t have a lot of time to get all her stuff dealt with and packed and moved and she has a LOT of stuff, AND she doesn’t know yet where she wants to move TO. GAH!
The real estate company came and took a bajillion photos of the house and made it look gorgeous (which isn’t hard because it is) and twice as big, which is, because it’s already enormous. I was flipping through the pictures for the second time and found myself thinking that it looked beautiful but that something was off, and then I realized it was because all my mom’s photos of family, which are normally all over the house, were all missing. She and my sister removed them all, after the realtor told them that doing so was part of preparing the house for photos and viewings. Apparently, people need to be able to imagine themselves into the house, and they can’t do that if your kids and grandkids are mugging at them from every wall.
I saved all the photos to my hard drive, just so I can visit it again virtually, if I don’t figure out how to get there before she moves out. I tried to show the photos to Karin but she got so sad and upset about the whole thing she refused to look at them. I know how she feels, and I know my mom feels the same. She and my dad built that house from scratch 25 years ago, and my dad only got to enjoy it for not quite 2 years before he died. That house is SO very much my mom. Beautiful, comfortable furniture, lots and lots of chairs (OMG so many chairs. My mom has a million chairs.) grouped together that invite you to sit and stay awhile, beautiful interesting things to look at every where you turn and lots and lots of room to spread out. It’s out in the middle of the woods and her yard is huge, surrounded by trees on all sides. She regularly gets squirrels and deer and wild turkey passing through. Every inch of the place was thoughtfully designed to accommodate my dad’s disability and to be a place of peace and comfort. It hosted us for so many family vacations and holidays and parties. I’ll really miss it.
BUT. I know it’s the right thing to do. I know it’s the right time, too, and I’m really proud of my mom for taking the plunge and dealing with this on her own. It’s a lot to deal with. Even though she’s moved many times in her life…maybe more than I have (and I’ve moved 29 times!), she’s having to do this one largely alone and it’s a major one: downsizing and moving all at once.
I think about it too…downsizing and moving. I don’t want to move more than maybe one more time, if I can avoid it. Already this house is too big for just two people, with Karin in Malmö (for the moment) and Martin in Detroit, but I’m still not ready to leave it. I love this house. We built it, too, and designed it to have the same kind of comfort and peacefulness that my parents succeeded with. I think it’s fine to stay here for a while though and have our home be a place where our children and our families and friends can come to visit and enjoy vacations and holidays and parties.
Too bad I can’t get some of my mom’s chairs over here via matter transmitter.