Wending our way to New Smyrna was a two day trek. We stopped in Washington to visit Lincoln and
have a meal at one of our favorite dining spots, Lauriol Plaza, and did I
mention we spent the night at The Mayflower Hotel? Thanks Priceline! It had been a sloppy weather day getting
started so it was a great first stop.
Greeted by a bright blue sky the next morning we were off to
Florida, but not before another night on the road, this time in Savannah. There
is nothing like leaving the bright canyons of the city to find ourselves in a
tunnel of live oak trees and Spanish moss in the dark of night.
Long showers, clean towels and a good night’s sleep put us
in the right frame of mind for the last leg of the trip. But not before exploring some of the gardens near
the riverside with some coffee, oh and perhaps I’ll try on that pair of boots
in the window.
Well, we’d better hit the road. There are no more reasons to
delay the inevitable.
We finally pull into New Smyrna around dinner time but first
at quick look at the house. Yes, it’s
all there. There is nothing quite as
disheartening as a cold, unused and unloved house to welcome us back. I knew there was a reason it took so long to
drive down. The house was only that, a building
that held our stuff. It was not a home
that held special memories and warmth.
In fact, it was a reminder of the promise of what could have been for
not only was I returning to purge the stuff that had been acquired over the
course of a lifetime, but I was coming to end a marriage.
I had been in New York for a full year and had a husband in
Florida. Granted, it was a short lived
marriage, but the union was made with the intent of commitment and the promise
of love. Walking into the house felt no
different than when I lived there, alone, cold and temporary. All of my belongings were inside yet I did
not belong there. With no love there is
no sense of home, with no love there is no sense of belonging. Love is the actual stuff of life.
I thought I remembered everything when I tried to recall
just what things were in the house. I
had actually forgotten just how much stuff I had! Glass bibelots I had
purchased in Venice, a collection of
boxes, my depression glass platters, pottery, so many lamps, carpets,
paintings, books, photos, frames, my iron dutch oven, presents I had been
given, boxes of letters I had saved, rocks I had picked up in the Grand Canyon,
in Hawaii, in France. And then there
were all the things of Em’s life. Her
school career, her art work, Beanie Babies, books, gifts, thrift store finds
and mounds of clothes! Essentially, we had an entire store of belongings we
needed to organize, decide which to keep and which to give, sell or throw away,
clean, and say goodbye.
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