It seems there was someone interested in mom’s house even before her death, a fact I was unaware of, so the quickness of the sale took me by surprise. It was a private sale. I was told to meet the new owners at the house to turn over the keys and the garage door opener. I walked through the house, chuckled to myself, “I’m trespassing.” I slowly made my way into each room, taking in smells, memories, some rooms brought laughter, others brought tears, and as I made my way out and closed the door behind me for the very last time, sadness overwhelmed me. The weight of mom’s loss was so very present. She was gone, her things were scattered and now, her house was someone else’s. I sat on a pile of bricks waiting for the new owners.
She lived in unincorporated Cedar Lake. When country living was country living (it’s so built up out there now). I looked over her land (she had 10 acres), felt the breeze, listened to the quietness and accepted the fact that I would never be at this location again. I don’t remember how long I sat there but was jostled out of my thoughts when I heard the car come up the driveway. With a smile I handed them the keys and the opener. They said I could come back and see the place once they remodeled. I thanked them and went on my way. I understand they sent Kathleen pictures. I never had any interest in seeing what they did.
My parents moved there in 1989 when, like I said, there was nothing around. Dad died in 1995, in that house. Massive heart attack shortly after Mom came home with groceries. Mom loved it out there. Never thought of moving. After dad died, she worked even harder in real estate to make sure she could keep it. It was peaceful. Stars at night. Coyote howls. Loved watching storms there. With every lighting bolt, you can see where the twister was. Winters, definitely snowed in. All that land made for a lot of snow drifts.
Kathleen and her family would come in every year. We would play games, watch movies, eat junk food, play the pinball and pac-man machines, and stay in jammies all day. Vince would sometimes grill or Kathleen and I would try a new recipe. The kids would play together. They were joyous times. That was Grandma’s house. The only house her three grandchildren ever knew.
The July 4th before mom passed, I was laying on my bed and could see fireworks in the distance. I went to mom’s bedroom to see if she was still awake, she was and I told to come watch the fireworks. They were Dyer’s fireworks which were roughly 10 miles away. We enjoyed them and she thanked me. Less than a month later, she was gone. It’s those little things that pop into my mind. That house. Those clear skies in the country made it possible to see a spectacular show 10 miles away.
It wasn’t just a house, it was a home.
Next Week: Sorting out feelings
Until next time…
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