This photo makes it clear (or it should) that we have not moved to the Rosedale house yet. It’s way past time for an update, so here goes: We sold our Shadow Mountain house in one day to the most lovely couple who taught their little daughters to swim in our pool many years ago. In case I was in danger of forgetting that life is full of surprises, last month kindly reminded me. Selling to this sweet family was a huge affirmation and they will take our place here on February 2nd. We continue to pack and purge – and I continue to cry at dumb stuff. The word bittersweet fits most of my moments, but these days every time I walk into the Rosedale house I’m more amazed at the transformation. Someone saw the potential of this place through all the chaos, and that person wasn’t me. I kept wringing my hands, but Kyle never did. So I’m grateful for a husband and a contractor who had faith that when we scrape away all the neglect, this place will shine.
I can finally see through the remaining chaos, which means this photo is beautiful to me. The moving van is scheduled for January 27th. We’re surrounded by boxes and empty bookshelves and rooms with nothing on the walls. Some days I feel ready and other days I picture my arms wrapped around the tree in the front yard on moving day while they try to drag me away. Okay, being dramatic here, but I’m honestly not sure which emotion will prevail on that day. Also, I’m getting a little touchy about purging, since over the years my sentimentality has caused our closets to bloat with boxes of special things that I can’t (and won’t) release. These boxes are coming with us because I’m purged out. I can’t become any more minimalistic or I’m afraid I’ll disappear. I’m done. No more purging. No more sorting through stuff. No more decisions about what stays and what goes. That little foursquare house is going to have to hold what’s left of my stuff.
I love before and after photos, so I’ll be posting some as soon as we have a room that qualifies as an “after” photo. I’m told that will happen before January 27th, so I’m taking that on faith.
This new chapter is ours, and we have the opportunity to make something wonderful out of it, chaos and all. I really do believe that. I just might need a reminder if I start walking toward the big tree on moving day.
Lisa Jackson Tresch 
For everything there is a season. This is your new season. Keep the faith.
Two of my favorite things are Transformation and Wonderful Houses. Oklahoma has some great houses. One of my upcoming posts will be about a house in Duncan that I purchased because of it’s amazing dining room with French doors of old wavy glass. I love what you and Kyle are doing to a dirty diamond, which will sparkle once again. I’ve posted about moving 20 times in the past 30 years. I think I’m done, but residential monogamy has never been one of my strengths. The moves get harder, as we are weighed down with those cherished items that come from living. I donated at least six grocery bags of books to the local library for their sales. Still, I have a wall of books, which I must keep. I’m saving them for old age in case I can’t get out of the house. I now have enough “garden” to keep me busy for a decade as the house, all redone except for bathroom and kitchen counters, provides shelter at the end of those long laborious work days. That said, there is still a little voice that calls to me occasionally. It whispers, “What if….what if you moved to…?”
I predict this. As the last box is put in the truck and you make one last walk through the house to make sure you’ve not forgotten anything, you’ll find that it’s just that. A house. The memories you’ve packed up in boxes and in your heart will make the move to Rosedale, and as they are unpacked, will remind you that you are home, indeed. Although it may be a bit inconvenient when I need to borrow a cup of sugar!