PenWomanShip

As we pulled out of the driveway, I felt the urge to shout. No! Stop! This is a mistake! Instead, I sat silently looking out the window of our car, willing myself to absorb everything I could see. As if through mental absorption, I could bring all that was familiar along with me to our new home, in our new state.

My house, now empty, still looked like my home. The yard, where my babies had spent years playing, held the ghosts of long outgrown bicycles and hockey equipment, flattened footballs and scraped knees, dogs that were gone but not forgotten and friends who would soon be far away. The bushes and trees that I'd planted and cared for, waved goodbye with a whisper in the breeze. The driveway, where my boys had learned to skate, beckoned me back, stay one more hour, one more day.

As we rounded the corner and I lost sight, I closed my eyes. I wanted to keep all, that was dear to me, locked inside. One tear escaped, and then another. Before I even realized it, I was blubbering beyond control. I glanced over at my husband. I didn't know how he could have the strength to drive away from it all, unscathed.

He caught me looking at him and said, "It's going to be okay. You'll see. We're doing the right thing."

Somewhere, deep inside, I knew he was right. The new house was beautiful. We were headed south and the thought of a milder winter pleased me. My boys were coming along with us. I tried to convince myself that I was just being silly. Windows and siding and doors do not make a home. People make a home and wherever we plunked down our belongings would be just fine.

As we pulled onto the highway, I reached for my grandmother's heirloom cross that I now wore faithfully. I liked to touch it and think of her whenever I needed comfort. I sometimes would kiss it for luck. I brought it to my lips and suddenly remembered something.

"Turn around. We have to go back."

My husband looked at me like I was crazed. "What? Why?"

"I left our bag of jewelry in the closet!" Not wanting to leave it in the car while we finished packing up the house, I had unwittingly left it behind.

"Wouldn't that have made a nice housewarming gift for the new owners?" He was being sarcastic, but I deserved it.

We made a U-turn and headed back. The adrenaline rush dried my tears. We pulled into the driveway and I quickly ran inside for the bag. I took one more tour of the house and said my farewell. As I locked the door behind me, I looked out into the yard, this time with a smile, thinking, I may never again be here physically, but I would always have my memories of the place. This time as we pulled away, I was happy. I was looking forward to the trip and excited about moving into a new home and a new neighborhood.

Grannie's necklace had reminded me of my own jewelry and, maybe what is more important, had provided me one last much-needed look at my old house. She always did know the best way to comfort me.