letting go

It is a quiet day here in the country. All hell breaks out tomorrow when the movers and packers arrive. But I have done these kinds of moves so many times I’m not stressing at all. In fact, I seem oddly detached today. It’s like I’m seeing familiar things and surroundings through someone else’s eyes. I’m not connected. I think it’s because I have detached and let go of this place in my head.

I remember finding this spot all those years ago. The rolling hills of the Cumberland Plateau are beautiful. The views were spectacular. We thought this would be the perfect spot to build our last house. We would finally have our dream house and well deserved time alone together. We spent so many years working hard and moving as jobs dictated. At last we would be able to enjoy ourselves.

We built our perfect house and began to transform ourselves from uber driven type A professionals into retired rural gay couple hood. ... And then BC died. I retreated here to lick my wounds and try to heal. I tried to sell the place last year but I wasn’t ready to let go. This time it was easy.

I will miss it here but it is time for someone else to enjoy it. I hope they have a longer and happier time here than we did. I am leaving them a bit of us but they won’t know it. Many years ago, BC started a tradition of bringing home a rock from the places we visited or lived. We were going to build a rock memory garden but never got around to it. So this week I took all the rocks and set then into the path of the garden that GB built this summer. They need to stay.

My last day here I will walk the grounds and say my good byes. I won’t be sad. Then I’ll catch my plane to LA and Dark.