We recently sold our home in Los Angeles and moved an hour north to Ventura, California. Today was the day the new owners were to move in. This means it’s really not our home anymore. This is slightly bittersweet. I am happy to be where we are and the couple we sold to couldn’t be more lovely. From the moment I met them I knew the house was meant to be theirs. Still – a lot happened in the seven years we lived on Scarboro St, in our beautiful, old hillside home.
Here is a partial list: Hubby and I got engaged, got married, separated, got back together, I got my Master’s degree, we got pregnant, miscarried, got pregnant again, gave birth to our beautiful daughter (which was supposed to happen IN the house but was, unfortunately, a scheduled surgery), got a 2nd dog, lost the 1st dog to liver disease, became incredibly close to our neighbors, started three businesses, started a book club, started and ended friendships, changed and grew as individuals, as a couple, as a family.
Here are some things I particularly loved about living there: The way the sun filtered through the trees and danced on the curtains during our daughter’s afternoon nap. The view from the front deck at night, with the lights of the city sparkling beneath us like jewels. The coziness of our living room with it’s slate floor and hot chocolate colored walls. The dark green of our dining room, lit by candles and set for dinner with friends. The way the trees looked against the California sky when I lay on the deck and looked up, with my daughter by my side.
Tonight my heart is full of memories and gratitude. I hope the place our daughter calls “old home” holds as much space for love, for joy, for life for its new owners as it did for us.