And my last night here in this house. Little whimpers of electricity, midnight-dim-light, Wilson’s snores and something that sounds like wind whipping around the whole house. And I have come so far in the process. I can let go of things now. Houses used to wrap me up in their tendrils and keep me. I can let go of this place. But I am also grateful to this place. This place that held my newborn baby, bathed him, watched him as he learned to sit and crawl and tumble and walk and run and mumble baby chatter. This place that nestled me in the midst of divorce. This place of creation, crafting and conversation. On the back porch – watching storms, making things, feeding Jamie in his high chair, watching bumblebees buzzing in and out of flowers. So much learning. So many words. So many emotions. So much love. A strange little family stuffed into a plain white box. These big windows I’ll miss. The odd glow of the place at night. The pop of the fireplace. And all of the ten thousand kilojoules of joy Jamie has pounded into these floorboards learning how to be alive. So much joy. Such a strange little family in a strange little home. Goodbye little home. Thank you for letting me nest, re-coop, rebirth, sprout wings, discover, escape. A haven. There will always be love here.

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