Selling Tattler
2013
I'm writing this on the floor of my now empty home in Texas and I am flooded by memories. I've come to Texas several times since we made the move back to the Bay Area, but none have been as heartbreaking as this one. I know it's because closure is happening; in several ways. We are selling our house. It's been a good house to live in and it's hard to think in a couple days it will no longer be ours. I won't be able to walk through it's rooms and access the memories it holds in the same way. This house has a smell and it smells like us. Like home.
Our first year on Tattler Drive was the year we started homeschooling. We set up a beautiful, fun filled classroom in spare bedroom. Full of books, and games, and boxes and boxes of art supplies. Not all of the memories we had in there were sweet, but a lot of them were. We went on many field trips and explored Austin in a way we never had before. It was the year I stepped off the "it's just what you do path" and started creating my own. It was the year I quit listening to teachers tell me that Austin wasn't keeping up and brought him home to set his own pace. We learned a lot that year, mostly about ourselves.
It was also the year we met the Landers. On our first homeschool adventure day we met Courtney at a new frozen yogurt shop. When we showed up she welcomed Austin and I by asking us to pull up a chair and made us feel so welcome. It was one of the moments when I knew homeschooling was going to a wonderful choice for us. Many years later, her husband would be diagnosed with cancer and they would live in our house while he got treatment. It was a long, hard road for them and our house on Tattler Drive offered them comfort and security for a time. 
I remember our engagement party when this house was filled to the brim with friends and family gathered to celebrate our engagement. The food, the alcohol, the cake Valerie's mom made us. Valerie and Candi, drunk, sitting on the back porch telling me in unison, "You need a little less fancy and a little more us!"
I remember leaving Tattler Drive. for an adventure in San Francisco where so many things in me changed. I remember the strong pull I had to be back on Tattler Drive. To be home. I also remember feeling disillusioned once we did come back home. I wasn't the same and conversations with friends I had had since I was a teenager more often than not were arguments. I remember walking away from those friendships and the sadness it brought. The loneliness I felt, while also feeling optimistic for the room I was creating in my life for the things that brought me joy.
I remember during that time we met Amber. The sweet girl Austin met at park day. They hit it off almost instantly as she took on a motherly role with him. She started staying the night and on those nights and days our house was filled with her laugh and giddiness, and spontaneous hugs. Barton springs, late nights, and monkey platters. Oh and Skyrim! I can't play Skyrim and not think of Tattler Dr. I miss that girl. Austin and Amber had such a beautiful connection. It will be a friendship we cherish, always.
As I turn the light off in the room where they would play, I am flooded with memories of Austin and Amber and I sit for a moment until the feeling of loss passes. I don't want to walk away from that memory just yet.
I'm writing this on the floor of my now empty home in Texas and I am flooded by memories. I've come to Texas several times since we made the move back to the Bay Area, but none have been as heartbreaking as this one. I know it's because closure is happening; in several ways. We are selling our house. It's been a good house to live in and it's hard to think in a couple days it will no longer be ours. I won't be able to walk through it's rooms and access the memories it holds in the same way. This house has a smell and it smells like us. Like home. Our first year on Tattler Drive was the year we started homeschooling. We set up a beautiful, fun filled classroom in spare bedroom. Full of books, and games, and boxes and boxes of art supplies. Not all of the memories we had in there were sweet, but a lot of them were. We went on many field trips and explored Austin in a way we never had before. It was the year I stepped off the "it's just what you do path" and started creating my own. It was the year I quit listening to teachers tell me that Austin wasn't keeping up and brought him home to set his own pace. We learned a lot that year, mostly about ourselves.
I remember our engagement party when this house was filled to the brim with friends and family gathered to celebrate our engagement. The food, the alcohol, the cake Valerie's mom made us. Valerie and Candi, drunk, sitting on the back porch telling me in unison, "You need a little less fancy and a little more us!"
I remember walking to the downstairs bathroom, being in the hallway, when I answered the call of a very distraught Valerie crying telling me that Trey, her brother, had died. I remember the grief, laying on the couch, crying. Doing the dishes, crying. Falling asleep crying. Wondering when I'd stop crying and the sweet tenderness my family offered me at the time.
I remember leaving Tattler Drive. for an adventure in San Francisco where so many things in me changed. I remember the strong pull I had to be back on Tattler Drive. To be home. I also remember feeling disillusioned once we did come back home. I wasn't the same and conversations with friends I had had since I was a teenager more often than not were arguments. I remember walking away from those friendships and the sadness it brought. The loneliness I felt, while also feeling optimistic for the room I was creating in my life for the things that brought me joy.
I remember Monty traveling four days a week back to the Bay Area once we came home to Texas and coming to the realization that Tattler Drive is an awesome place to be, but not as awesome as having the family together. The toll of Monty being gone was too hard on us as a family to stay there.
I remember during that time we met Amber. The sweet girl Austin met at park day. They hit it off almost instantly as she took on a motherly role with him. She started staying the night and on those nights and days our house was filled with her laugh and giddiness, and spontaneous hugs. Barton springs, late nights, and monkey platters. Oh and Skyrim! I can't play Skyrim and not think of Tattler Dr. I miss that girl. Austin and Amber had such a beautiful connection. It will be a friendship we cherish, always.
As I turn the light off in the room where they would play, I am flooded with memories of Austin and Amber and I sit for a moment until the feeling of loss passes. I don't want to walk away from that memory just yet.
I remember discovering I really enjoy gardening! Watching my garden grow and the wildlife that would come and feast with every year and every fall planting. The knowledge I gained along with confidence when looking at plants and knowing what they were and what they attracted. Remembering my dad and Beverly visiting for Father's Day and being just as excited about my chrysalises as I was. Watching them through the window take pictures of my garden and feeling so proud and happy my garden was bringing people joy. That is a beautiful memory.
I will always cherish the memories of the neighborhood kids playing games into the night on the cul de sac at Tattler Drive. Those are great memories. We'd never had neighbors before that felt like family. That we could share holidays and birthday celebrations with. Having people on your street you enjoy and your kid enjoys was a true gift. They all came over to give me a hug and a hand this weekend, which, just illustrates how incredibly lucky we were to have landed on that cul de sac. I will truly miss my neighbors.
I will always cherish the memories of the neighborhood kids playing games into the night on the cul de sac at Tattler Drive. Those are great memories. We'd never had neighbors before that felt like family. That we could share holidays and birthday celebrations with. Having people on your street you enjoy and your kid enjoys was a true gift. They all came over to give me a hug and a hand this weekend, which, just illustrates how incredibly lucky we were to have landed on that cul de sac. I will truly miss my neighbors.
Standing in my now empty home I feel frozen. Unable to turn the light off and close the door and say goodbye to the house that holds so many memories. It's a chapter in life I am grateful to have. It's a good chapter and now it's time for the next.
Comments
Post a Comment