I hate to say goodbye.
I guess I have always known this about myself, but it hit me big-time last night when I drove up to my house around 9:30 and saw the For Sale sign in my yard that hadn’t been there when I left in the morning.
Now, this sign did not just randomly appear in my yard. It was placed there by the real estate agent I contracted with to do it. It wasn’t like I didn’t know it was coming. And I am ready for this. I really am. In fact, the reason I was getting home so late in the evening was because I had been out house hunting for the next home God has in store for me (not to mention getting crazy looks from three of my friends as I displayed some serious slaphappiness). It was fun. And I am excited about it and the adventures that lie ahead for me. But I still dread saying goodbye to this house. I can’t even think about someone else living there. It’s just too strange.
This was my first house, and it really became a home for me. I think it is always hard to say goodbye to our first anything – first love, first car, first pet, etc.
I actually named my first car. This, I will tell you, is a big no-no. In college, one of my lab courses in Neurobiology required that I train a rat on a maze before and after lesioning critical brain structures, only to later kill him and prepare slides of brain slices to analyze under a microscope. The first thing they told us was not to get too attached to the rat. Yeah – I didn’t listen. And that ended up being a difficult process for me.
I didn’t listen when it came to my car, either. I named him George (as in, “I will love him, and kiss him, and call him George,” for all of you Looney Tunes fans). George was a yellow, Ford Festiva with orange and black racing stripes on the side to help him sell off my father’s car dealership lot. You are now beginning to see how I ended up with him.
George and I had some great times. George had taken me back and forth on the 3.5 hour drive between my University and my hometown – my longest distance living away from home at that time. George had driven me and my friends around Rochester, NY so we could get off campus and have some fun. I got my first speeding ticket with George. And George somehow always had his windows completely steamed up when I went to get him in the remote parking lot where he stayed when I didn’t need him – to this day, I swear people were breaking in and making out in there, but George never said a word. He was just that trustworthy. I actually had to have a parting conversation with George before I sold him.
So you are probably getting the picture…if it was that hard saying goodbye to George, it is understandable that saying goodbye to my first house is going to be hard.
At least I never named my house.
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6 comments:
You never forget your first!
I know the feeling, especially if a lot of cool things have happened there. I am moving out next week too. sob! sob! Oh well, good memories.
I totally get this. Although I know I'm where God wants me, I still miss our house in Norwood, and in Hamilton, and even the one in Nashville. Houses become homes and homes are full of memories.
On another note, I am questioning your speeding ticket story. You must have been driving in a 35 mph zone. I have ridden in a Festiva and I doubt it could've edged over 65 downhill.
I named my first car as well. It was a 1984 Ford Tempo coupe. I named him Timmy. Timmy was a fine car. He had power nothing. Timmy came from the car birthing place with an AM radio and two dashboard speakers. Timmy was also deficient in the cooling department as he had no air conditioning.
But I did get my first speeding ticket in Timmy. The first time I went to Canada I was in Timmy. I took my driving test in Timmy and all my friends thought I was crazy to take a driving test in a car with a 5-Speed. I miss Timmy because it was the only time I had no problem working on any illnesses that crept up. The best part was I always had an extra bolt, nut, washer, plastic thingy, gasket, or something strange and Timmy just kept on going.
If you'll excuse me, I'm needing to go find a tissue...
Aaron- I actually was in a 35mph zone, but ole' George regularly made it up to 75 on the drive to and from college.
Two - Sounds like I need to buy us another round. Here's to George and Timmy...They had no power, no frills, and no airconditioning, but they had style. Long may they live, wherever they are.
Why is naming limited only to your first cars? The two cars we have now are the first cars that we haven't named. It's strange nothing has seemed to stick for them. I've driven Christine (obviously reference - and yes it was possessed), Earl, Wilson, and Brooke has had many including our favorites LeShit, and Betty.
i've never named a car before... maybe because i was a tad older when i first had primary use of a car, and older still when i first had a car in my name. i love my little kia but haven't named it. i've named guitars before, but the current one is unnamed. hmm...
i don't know how attached i am to my current apartment, but i was driving around the part of town i live in the other day and was thinking how much i'll miss its cuteness when i eventually move. *sniffle*
all is well though... :)
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