They immediately started unloading my car, which was crammed full of the last of my belongings from my house in my hometown. Over the course of several weeks, they had made trips to get my furniture and items I could live without until I closed on my house. This was the last hurrah. The caboose. The final load of random stuff.
The end of the chapter had come earlier that day. I had spent the day loading the car in sweltering 100 degree heat and cleaning the house. I looked through every nook and cranny, making sure I had everything. I walked through each room, remembering events of the 12 years I had spent in my little bungalow that I was able to buy on my own (with God's help, of course) in 2009. I was so proud of that little house.
After all I had been through, I never thought I'd be able to buy a house of my own. But GOD...He gave me a better job, helped me get out of debt, and eventually, found me the perfect little house.
It felt like a miracle to me. I believe it was.
It was bittersweet to sell it and move 175 miles away to a small town in the middle of nowhere that I had only visited 2-3 times a year since my daughter had lived here. Only the grace of God could have enabled me to do that. Looking back, I know that was the only way I had the strength and fortitude to do what I did.
I believe God gave me the ability to do this hard thing because it's part of His plan for me. I really believe I'm supposed to be here, at this time and in this town.
So, when the time for the loan closing came in the late afternoon, I locked up the house, gave it one last look, and drove downtown to the office to sign the papers.
Tears might have been shed at some point in the process. I went and said goodbye to my cousin at her workplace, drove to where my best friend works and said goodbye to her, then, with one more look at my beloved hometown, where I had lived for 66.5 years (my entire life up until that day), I got on the highway and started the long drive to the town I now call home.
I knew no one here except my daughter, her family, and her in-laws, who live about 30 minutes away.
I no longer live in her basement; I was able to find a duplex across town, around 10 minutes from her for a decent monthly rent and moved in September 2021.
It hasn't always been rosy and happy; I have had some sad days along the way. I miss my friends in what will always be considered "back home." I miss my little house. I miss the entire town.
But...I'm finally starting to feel like I belong here now.
It's wonderful having family 10 minutes away. I love seeing my daughter, son-in-law, and grandkids more than 2-3 times a year. I get to go to school events. I pick the grandkids up from school a lot of the time. I have made some great friends, and I have found a church home.
Who says a single woman can't start a new chapter in her late 60s?
All in all, I'd say it's going ok here in my new town.
"...forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus." Philippians 3:13-14
In front of my little house in VB 2021 |
On the patio in my new digs 2023 |
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