Our apartment has been sold. The new owner wants to live here. We have to move within a month.
It’s sad that it’s going down like this. I know we don’t fit in here any more, but it would’ve been nice to have chosen the manner of our departure. I feel strangely sentimental when it comes to this little flat. This is where we brought our girls home from the hospital. I can’t look at the front door without thinking about Tess coming home from hospital. Chris came through the door holding Rose’s hand and in the other hand, Tess in the baby capsule. I can’t look at Rose’s room without thinking of Goodnight Moon, and the ritual that follows it. (Goodnight bookcase! Goodnight bed! Goodnight door! Goodnight toys!) I see our room and I think about the night before Tess was born. I was awake most of the night with abdominal pains, so scared. I see the study and I think of Rose shutting the doors to hide. And the hundreds of blog posts I’ve written in here. Or the running up and down in the hallway outside. I see the kitchen and I see Rose watching popcorn being made for the first time. Our first batch of scones, Rose gently placing the cheese on top of each one.
There is so much love here. Some other, unknown place will be our home. We will put our love there. But I will never forget this place.