The House I Grew Up In

The house I grew up in is empty. It has been for sale for six months now. Three weeks ago, everything changed. Someone made an offer. For these times, any offer is a good one. It actually wasn't a bad one and the decision to sell the house was made.

Today, for the last time, on Mother's Day, I visited my childhood home where I had lived until I was 21 years old and where my Mother had lived since she built it in 1949. Although the house was empty, it spoke to me on this last day of my ownership.

Everything in the beautiful backyard was blooming. The roses, the Bird of Paradise, the Crepe Myrtle, the miniature Bottlebrush, the Hibiscus and the many other exotic, tropical plants and flowering trees my mother had collected and lovingly planted over the years seemed to be dressing for the occasion.

For the last six months I'd been their sole caretaker. I fertilized, trimmed and cut back what had become a jungle of unrestrained growth. My Mother had been ill for a long time before she died and her greatest regret was not being able to sit on her patio and enjoy her orchids and flowers. She missed her backyard very much. I tried to bring it all back to how it looked when she was able to see and appreciate her masterpiece of blooming trees, shrubs and beautiful flowers.

Thursday, a couple will sign papers and the house will become another family's home. I did everything I could to make the house sparkle and shine for when they arrive. A "Congratulations on Your New Home" card and a bottle of champagne is waiting on the counter in the kitchen. The grass has been cut and a weed-eater has trimmed even the most errant weeds and tall growth.

As I walked through the house one last time, I thought of all the memories it held for me. I said goodbye to each of the rooms I have loved as long as I could remember. If I were the new owners walking in for the first time, I would be pleased with what I would find. I hope their dreams will come true and they make many memories to cherish.

I am sad but hopeful. The last chapter in my Mother's life will be completed this Thursday by end of day. I think the time I spent over the last six months removing my Mother's possessions and caring for and maintaining the house allowed me to gradually let go, finally realizing it would eventually become another family's home.

There had been many unusual, natural signs this last week that led me to believe I was moving in the right direction.

Mom's variegated red and white Amaryllis had bloomed in the front planters. Her Bird of Paradise, which had not bloomed in a very long time, produced four tall, stately flowers that came out to say goodbye. I brought three of them home.

There are two gardenia bushes in my own backyard that have never bloomed before this week. Dozens of blossoms still cover the bushes as I write this story. My very last spring lily will be fully opened tomorrow morning. It is a majestic white flower that stands three and a half feet tall.

Set in twin terra cotta pots, my Mother's Crown of Thorns are in my garden now and they are huge with healthy, multicolored flowers. Also in my garden, her Dessert Rose, damaged in the earlier frost, is now coming back and there are tiny buds just waiting to open. I brought home a piece of the huge Staghorn Fern Mom was so proud of and it has settled in well under a water Oak in proper shade.

I have my Mother's orchids. They hang on my porch, in the trees, in my vegetable garden and all around the small fenced yard behind my house. They are very happy where they are and blooms are still coming out since they've adjusted to regular care. I have two Gumbo Limbo trees started as cuttings from the big tree in Mom's backyard. My blog is named for the Gumbo Limbo pictured above that lives in my Mother's backyard.

I will mourn the loss of the home I knew so well. It was a part of my family. But I wish the new inhabitants all their future enjoyment and memories. I know whenever I happen to be in the area, I will drive by and see what will always be my childhood home. It is an old friend and I will miss it.

Thursday's closing will also be a final goodbye for my Mom. Her home was so much a part of her. Everything in it was a separate piece of the story about her varied and interesting life adventure. I know she would be pleased with the end result. As I closed the door, I felt she too was closing a door, leaving the place she loved to a new family as she moved on to her last great adventure.

I turned the key in the lock for the last time and tried not to cry as I whispered goodbye. I think the house smiled.

May 11, 2010