Our household contents have finally been packed up
and removed. I watched the last of the boxes be loaded onto the truck, ready
for shipping to the other side of the world. And it felt ok. The emptiness of
the house didn’t really strike me. There was still so much to do. The mess left
behind still needed to be dealt with. Besides, we’d recently had all the
carpets in the house replaced, so it had been emptied of its contents just a
short while ago. This didn’t feel any different.
B2 and I got to scrubbing while B1 was
spending the day with a friend. We vacuumed, we cleaned cupboards, we cleaned
bathrooms, we dusted, we picked up all the last bits of rubbish. Then B1 arrived and
helped with the last few things. When we were done, I went from room to room, closing blinds
and doors and saying goodbye to this home. I hadn’t expected the wracking sobs
building from my gut, or the fat wet tears streaming down my cheeks. They took
me somewhat by surprise. I thought I had rationalised it. After all, it is just a house. A building. A place to stop
and rest. Why this sudden emotion?
B1 came in to find me in the kitchen,
patting the countertops and sobbing. He hugged me, asked me why I was crying
and said “but it’s just a house”.
That’s when I was able to articulate what I was thinking and feeling. This was
not just a house. This was the first
home that LomL and I had ever owned. It was the home where both my children
lost their first teeth. It was the home from which I sent them off to their
first day at school. It was the home in which I home schooled them. It was the
home from which they started at their new school, the one in which they had
both been so happy. This was the home in which magic had been woven and letters from the Toothfairy, the Easter Bunny and Bilby and Santa had been received. It was the home where both children learned to ride their bikes,
fell, grazed knees/arms/faces. It was the home where they learned to be pirates
and climb trees and make fortresses out of branches. This was the home where a hundred
parties were thrown, a thousand arguments were had, a million meals had been
cooked. This was the home that both LomL and I had celebrated our 40th
birthdays in, where both the boys had achieved double-digit birthdays. This was
the home from which both LomL and I had completed yet another tertiary qualification. This was where new friendships had been made and old ones renewed - friendships that transcend time and continent.
This
home had housed us, the dog, chickens, geese, goldfish, rabbits, guinea pigs, frogs, bobtails, monitor lizards, gallahs, corellas, black cockatoos, herons, wattle birds, magpies, 28s, red-caps, splendid wrens, bronze-winged pigeons, tawny frogmouths,
kookaburras, geckos, spiders and the various “pet” insects the children captured. This was the home in which I learnt so much about Australian indigenous flora and fauna and ecology. This was the home where we truly established ourselves as a family. And
cleaning her felt like performing the last rites. It was my gift to her for
having housed us so well, for having allowed us to grow. It felt very like my
final gift.
Oh, I’ll go back before we leave the
country. There are still things to be done. But last night was my farewell to
her. I leave her with wonderful memories and immense gratitude for our time there.
