Today marks the one year and a day in this perfectly preserved 1970’s house which was dubbed by the architect working on our home the “GSH” or Green Shag House. It is curious to me that starting tomorrow we will begin the countdown of “our last Saturday here, our last Sunday in the GSH, etc.
On Sunday, the two days from now, we hit the last day that is not a there day in the following week. Not only will we be saying it is our last Saturday here in the GSH, we will be saying it is our last Sunday before we are there.
Our new there–the third temporary housing we have occupied since the house burned down one year and six weeks ago. I think I will feel comfortable in this next one. It is truly temporary housing by design. It is a waiting spot, not a permanent spot. The place we are moving into is one in a large complex of holiday homes that rent for at least 30 days at a time. Some owners keep their units just so they can use them when they visit town. Some are occupied by full time residents but the predominant culture of the complex is long-term vacation rental. That is just right for us. It is a place designed to be temporary. It is not a place that you “stay” but a place that you visit. Somehow that frees me. Perhaps it is the idea of “checking out” at the end of your stay like in a hotel that has me charmed with this last temporary housing on our journey home. I have been surprised at myself and how eager I am to live in one of the units in the complex. It is sort of like going on holiday for a few months. If all things go well we will be in our new house by Christmas (truly this time!) so it really will be a few months.
We are renting a big storage unit at a self-serve and professional storage location. Our new landlord was generous enough to help us with those costs. All of our stuff could fill up a modest storage unit but we have building materials that had arived for the house that was not built so they are going north in the moving tuck to become part of the house that is being built. Having warehouse space where I can work sorting materials and getting them to just the right person on just the right day is luxury. Still though, I am not sure how I am going to react to not having a giant, boxed kitchen sink in the entry hall. And there is the wallpaper, the tile, a small chest of drawers, a vacuum-steam cleaner and all of the faucets and towel racks and such for one of the bathrooms. It is a good thing it is a big hall!
I am still filled with a wistful nagging about actually getting a house but I am more optimistic than I have been, perhaps since the house burned down, that we will have our own home again.
So here we are at a year and a day in this temporary lodging GSH and a day before it becomes the last day of each day in a week not left in the GSH but spent in the new place.
It is profoundly different to think of our lives as not being here by comparison to being there. This week, the one week mark, sets my heart pounding with trepidation and joy. We are finally going home.