A time of lasts

Even as we excitedly peruse electrical, plumbing, and tiling websites to identify possibilities for the new “villa” at 5314 Solstice Place, we recognize we will experience daily “lasts”. Our last Christmas is already a memory. And, while the garden is still being planned, we did not realize when we planted the garlic cloves last fall that we were beginning our last gardening season on First Street.

For a majority of our lives this has been our home – 40 of 42 married years; 40 of my 72 and 40 of Richard’s 78 years. It is tempting to simply look towards September, to focus on the myriads of decisions in an effort to make this shiny new building project and the move as easy as possible. Conversely, it would be easy to get lost in the memories. To reminisce about late nights spent with the steam gun and a putty knife as we removed seven layers of smoke permeated wallpaper in the dining room; the residual nicotine so heavy that the house smelled like an old-time beer bar. To laugh at the number of times we washed and moved buckets and buckets of river rock around our lot – raked from one garden path to another. Maybe, just maybe, we can manage a blend of something old and something new. But today, after yesterday’s blizzard, I will be happy to pack away my last memory of snow shoveling. Fingers crossed that winter weather cooperates.