One of the conditions of my being able to stay until the 15th of September is that the new owners can begin work on the outside of the house. Today one of the owners came with contractors who started measuring. I stayed in the studio making calls, continuing my search for a place to begin rebuilding my life. An hour or so after they left, a dumpster was delivered and parked in the drive. Unfortunately, it had been used previously to haul garbage and they didn't clean it out enough- it stinks. I hope it was not intentional. If it was, shame on them.
The enormity of my loss has hit me this evening. I look at the stars spangling the sky and listen to the crickets chirp. Today the remnants of the garden were alive with butterflies and birds. Soon, I will not have that view of the dark sky nor the butterflies or birds. My world will be much more bounded and less green. I also keenly feel the loss of all the dollars I spent on this place, none of which I am getting back, the furnishings that haven't found new homes that will end up in the dumpster, the plants that I lovingly chose and planted that will undoubtedly be ripped out. I do not think the new owners care about Wafer-Ash, or Golden Club, or Flame Azalea- if they don't sell them at Loew's they probably don't want them.
I have not felt this alone and forlorn since the night after my mother's funeral when I was left in her home, all alone, with none of my familiar distractions or comforts to ease my loneliness and loss. I was 500 miles from friends. My brothers had left without apparently any thought about how it might feel to be stranded in that house. That is how I feel again, now. I might as well be back there with only overwhelming feelings of loss and sadness, I might as well be 500 miles from anyone who cares about me.
I have to go to work tomorrow at the nursery, I have been away too long. I am afraid of what I will come back to, what fresh reminder of my failure will greet me on my return in the evening.