It’s been 12 days since my house closed and I left for California with a couple of suitcases and a bunch of holiday stuff tossed into the back of my minivan.
The family that bought the house emailed that they’re thrilled with their new home – especially to be moved in in time to enjoy Christmas there.
I keep waiting for the grief to sweep over me, but so far…NADA.
OK, a little twinge when I couldn’t gather greens from my yard for holiday decorations. And a little twinge when I realized that a particular thing I needed was no longer in the second drawer to the left of the stove, but is buried in some poorly marked box deep in the storage unit.
But mostly I feel very light. Light-hearted, light-footed.
The last few days I’ve stayed with an old friend, helping her get her house ready for her extended family to arrive for Christmas. She has a gorgeous home near the California coast, high on a ridge with spectacular views in all directions. Many people would kill to live in a place like this.
But she was not enjoying it. She fretted about getting the tree decorated. She fussed about food preparations. She was in a flap about cleaning the house (to her high standards) in time. Would the yard person show up? Would the garbage man make a timely pickup? No way just enjoying where she is.
I’ve been there. Oh yeah, have I been there!
But not this year. It wasn’t my house, and it wasn’t my problem, so I just plowed through whatever task she set me to – no big deal. The more challenging the better. I had a blast.
No emotional attachment = no stress.