Yesterday I ran into Ace Hardware for a $1.90 foam paintbrush. I then started crying and had to hurry out. That pretty much sums how I’ve been feeling about selling our beloved log cabin.
This cabin has been a long dream of mine and it’s been the most beautiful respite for me and Mike and our visitors. It was never part of our long-term plan to sell, but we knew the plan might change if we found a home out of state. And so it changed.
I think what has been most difficult for me to let go, are my hopes of it being a forever memory for our niece Bowie and eventually her baby sister Harlow. Bowie has been a regular visitor at the cabin since she’s been able to walk. It’s been a beautiful experience for us (Aunt Me and Uncle Mike), and as any parent can attest, an even more beautiful break for her parents.
Bowie’s overnight (or 2 night) bag would be stuffed full, waiting by the door and I’d have to step in front of the eager toddler who was attempting to rush out of her house, “Bye Mommy! Bye Daddy! I’m going to the cabin!!” I’d have to reign her back in and remind her to go give each of them hugs, which she would do quickly and then bolt for the door again.
When the time came to tell Bowie the news about selling the cabin, Mike and I devised a cute plan to help ease all of our hearts. You see the very first Bowie visit, included introducing her to her very own fairy that lived in a little house in the woods. The fairy decorates her home with different furniture each visit. Sometimes there are remnants of her baking a cake with a birthday note to Bowie, and during Christmas she strings actual working fairy lights outside her fairy house. So it was only natural that Bowie’s fairy would decide to move too. So the fairy got her stuff packed up in boxes and is moving to Maine!
Mike and I were quite proud of our attempt, but we gave a 3.5 year old a little too much credit. She was bored and didn’t care and then one week later asked when she could come back to the cabin. Oh well. The good news is my sister and I are already stock-piling lots of dates and plans for her to come for long, fun-filled visits in Maine.
I’ll finish with this thought. It’s been a wonderful, wonderful place but there’s an unlimited supply of wonderful out there. And with every box I pack, and every little beloved trinket I wrap up snug in paper, I think about all the California families sifting through ashes hoping to find just one little thing that resembles its original shape. So it’s just a place. And these are just things.
We are so grateful for the few years we had here.