The Closing of a Chapter

I breathed out, the air tickling my lips as it brushed past, unsuspecting of what was taking place. I would remember this moment, this decision, for the rest of my life. This moment in which time seemed to stand still and watch as an onlooker, curious as to what would come.

I looked once more through the wide-open Victorian doors and the ornate entryway. The blue floral wallpaper gave an air of sadness as it watched me, its lifelong friend, exit the home for the last time. At 92 I was too old and frail to be this home's companion any longer. I would start a new chapter of life with my daughter. Thankfully, she does not live more than an hour drive from my lovely Victorian home in the northern part of Maine, but the sorrow of losing my home tore through me with great strength. I raised my two babies in this home and enjoyed many years with the most wonderful man. I had to say goodbye to that man, my husband, about four years past. I would now lose my home.

Modern folk do not appreciate the power of understanding one's past, or even the beauty of good craftsmanship. All things fast and disposable are what make the world go around now. There are few things that stay the same. There are few things that cause true joy, and instead a few fickle moments of happiness soon swept away by the busy schedule of life. What kind of life would that be? Was that to be the kind of life I must have now that I would live with my daughter?

Fear crept into my mind, intertwining with the sorrow of the event. A force gripped at my throat and I fought back the tears which threatened to present themselves. What good would that do me now? This was to be my new life. I could accept it with grace and dignity, leaning heavily on God to keep me as he always had, or I could become a permanent part of the past.

I took a strong, deliberate step backward and closed the heavy green wooden doors. I took another step back, relishing in the beauty of the home I had enjoyed for most of my lifetime.

"Goodbye old friend." I whispered lightly, as a tear rolled down one cheek.

I lifted my chin, took another step back, then turned and strode slowly, but confidently to my daughter's new black Buick. I wiped the single tear away before carefully lowering myself onto the soft passenger seat. I turned a smiling face to my daughter who pressed the accelerator and roared away as if the past had never even happened.