As I tango with the clouds, the universe and gravity playing pinball with our plane – I was reminded how much I liked the feeling in the pit of my stomach. Dread and uncertainty play ball with manmade safety. A two inch piece of nylon around my waist acts as a laughable protector from the power of God. As the feeling of adventure quakes, I’m nearly sure that I’ll exit the ride safely and walk out to somewhere brand new – where a new adventure awaits – this time with my feet on the ground.
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Dear 7806 Lowdes,
When I first saw you, I was overwhelmed by the Texas blooms overgrown in your yard. I breathed in your fertile blossoms and hoped they would create future of sunshine inside your walls. When I bought you, I installed a big single-basin farmhouse sink with the intention of washing little naked babies in it. I heard the echo of children’s laughs as they pounded their little feet through your hallways. I watched my dog make her nest in your corners, burrow in your yard, bark at your mailman (and eventually, as her eyesight softens, anything that walks down your sidewalk).
Over the short two years I’ve owned you, life has raced past in patterns I never expected. My tempest-like imagination carved plans so carefully that they couldn’t bend, only shatter. I’ve sat within your walls: dreaming, unsatisfied, broken, searching, loosing, finding, loving, whole. I’ve learned to play gently with possibility, to embrace uncertainty. Along the way, my dear home – I’ve made mistakes. I’ve brought people into your protective walls who ended breaking me down. But I’ve also built life in you. I’ve brought laughter into you. I’ve made love in you. I’ve partied in you. I’ve brought the wit, glamour, and gusto of many amazing people who cherish, build, and love deeply. In my fast laid plan, I anticipated spending more time inside of you. Soaking in your sunlight. Watering your lawn. Luxuriating in your shower. Sleeping soundly with your door’s unlocked.
Today, with the for sale sign violently stabbed in your yard, I am letting you be raped of privacy. I am turning you into a performance, rather than a home, as people rush to shuffle through you like a clearance rack. I hope you go quickly, my dear Lowdes flower – that this time of being prodded, analyzed, and turned inside out will be as pain-free as possible for us all. And I hope you go to someone who will bask in your sunshine and whose babies who will be bathed in your sink.
Thank you, my lovely home. Thank you for the shelter. Thank you for protecting me from storms, even when the power went out. Thank you for holding me when I cried. Thank you for showing me that I can own something as beautiful as you, all by myself. Thank you for being a part of my journey.
With love,
Sami
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Next, I’ll be engulfed in both the clouds and the arms of the most beautiful soul I’ve ever met, in the Colorado mountain air. Love has given me the wings to fly with this adventure. As the feeling of adventure quakes, I’m nearly sure that I’ll exit the ride safely and walk out to somewhere brand new – where a new adventure awaits – this time with my feet on the ground.
