Selling, getting rid of the stuff, and moving

My house  has been on the market for three weeks with no offers yet. Bub I assume that will happen in good time. In the meantime I’m nervous about  it and I work hard to make sure my home is in perfect condition when people come by to see it. In the meantime I also write my daily poems – hoping my words will help the process along.


I’m abandoned
Put upon
Left to do
All the work.
Arrange for repairs
Take care of the garden
Sign the listing papers
And make sure
Everything is perfect
before a buyer
Comes by.
Then I’m the one
Left to decide
On an offer
If one ever comes through
Next I must take care of
all the work
Of the move:
The throwing away,
The giving away,
The taking away,
Handling all the things
We lovingly bought together
And put into this home.
And touching each
One by one while deciding
What to do with it.
I resent it
I want him by my side.
After he died
I had to take care
Of the finances
Pay the bills
Do the taxes
Manage the money.
This other stuff
The selling, the moving
Are way worse.
I must make the decisions
And I don’t want
To make them
All by myself.


I felt like keeling over
After my walk this morning
I barely dragged myself
Up the last hill.
And then I had
To get the house ready
For a ten o’clock showing
And find a place
To hang while
The lookers looked.
This time I went by car
And parked in the post office lot.
I sat and read my current book
While staying in tune
With my Ring
Hoping to get a glimpse
Of the comings and goings
At my house.


Today I was reminded of grief
Writing this afternoon
With my group.
I shared my thoughts
Of moving from this house
With both good and bad memories
And going to a new place
With no memories at all.
That’s what I want.
But I ask myself
Will that help me move on
Start my life all anew
Or will it cause me to long
For all the forty-two years
Of days that I lived here
With him and our boys.
Paul is gone; Bob is gone
Only Ben remains, but he
Is not here anymore except
For brief visits.
So I have nothing to leave behind
Except for the memories
And the grief
And the many meals I served
On our dining room table
That seats twelve.


People came to look
At the house today.
I had one hour
To get it ready –
Spotless, decluttered,
With all the lights on
And windows open.
This couple looked
One at a time –
I could tell from
My Ring App.
I could see them
Walk in and out
Of the front door.
But I’m not going
To get my hopes up.
They didn’t even
Want to see it at first
Because it’s on Valley Dr.
It’s too bad.
We didn’t mind
Living on this street
For over forty-two years
We never were
Disturbed by street noise.
Valley is much maligned
For no reason at all
Except it doesn’t have
An ocean view.
Not a bad thing really.


Speak Your Mind