Farewell, My Home Sweet Home

 by Carolyn Handler Miller

 

The sign went up about two weeks ago. It was probably a good thing I wasn’t in Los Angeles to witness the event. I might have started to cry. But a few days later, one of the realtors sent me a photo of it. There it was, firmly planted in the ivy by the stairs leading up to the house: the sign proclaiming that my house was up for sale.

photo by Chris AbbottGoodbye, house! Technically, of course, it’s still mine, until an offer is made and accepted and the deed changes hands. But with multiple showings and strangers tromping through, checking out the rooms and peering into closets, it feels like it has already passed out of my possession and somehow become a public space, like a library, or, God forbid, a gas station restroom. And eventually, it will truly belong to someone else.

Please don’t get me wrong. I’m totally behind the decision to sell it. I’m not being forced into this by the sorts of miserable circumstances that have recently propelled so many people out of their homes. Actually, I’m letting it go for a positive reason – to become a fulltime resident of Santa Fe, New Mexico, a place I truly love. My husband and I have been splitting our time between Santa Fe and L.A. for the past eight years, but a new opportunity has now made living full time in Santa Fe completely feasible.

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Long Life's Journey To Home

by Marian Warren

"You have to come down if you want your stuff," Beatrice said. "There's termites under the building and I have to fumigate."


I can't remember what I stored with Beatrice while exiting Los Angeles for rural Kansas , but lately I've been missing certain photos, journals and scripts. In ‘04, I fled after 20 years of trying to make a career and happy love life. My friends begged me not to go:

"You're the last person in the world who should move to Kansas !" said my charming boss.

"One thing I'm hearing about where you're going...No available men," said my handsome therapist.

"You won't be able to find a job. People will see you as an outsider. Like when I moved to Florida ," said a well-meaning friend.

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