Finito

This isn't the end of Beach Bucket, but it's the end of... so many other things. It's been hard to collect all of the thoughts required to process these endings, so that's why I've had so many intentions of starting this post... and then false starts... and then no starts.

We moved out of Palazzo non Finito last month, and it kind of capped off what was the "finito" to so many significant parts of our life. Since this spring, we've said goodbye to:

Our house
Having a pool (!)
Our dog Kobe : (
My red Highlander
Our golf cart
Zach's electronics tutor (who moved to start a new job)
Luke's trumpet teacher (Luke quit trumpet)
Zach's aide (who got promoted to supervisor)
Zach's sailing/sea life mentor (who sailed off to get his captain's certification)
Our favorite babysitter (who got a full-time job)
The middle school
Our proximity to the beach
Dave's office (next month)

... and countless pieces of furniture, toys, kitchen equipment, and various other possessions that we unloaded on Goodwill during the move and thereafter.

Are we scarred? (and yes, I mean to say 'scarred,' not 'scared') I'm not sure. We are fortunate to have landed in a new house that fits us like a glove, and has become sort of a healing place. We each have a space where we feel comfortable and safe, and now that we've gotten past the mourning, the house is our place to recover and rebuild. (I was going to say "reinvent" but I don't think we've gotten to that stage of creativity just yet).

What have we gained? Luke seems to have grown in confidence as well as size, with countless friends and sports that keep him busy. Zach is happy with his new gang of buddies and is endlessly entertained by his saltwater menagerie. Dave is re-committed to building and strengthening his business. And I'm just... nesting, and trying to figure out what my life is going to look like once school starts (and beyond).

If anything, we've gained a new sense of security because we know that we need none of those things in the list above (not a house, not a car, not that red buffet cabinet, not even a dog) to retain our sense of who we are.

And the weird thing is, I wouldn't go back. I loved - loved! - the Palazzo, but now that I have the long view, I'm not sure I'd want to go back. It was always too big for us, and we always had the feeling hanging over our heads that it wasn't really ours, and we weren't in it for the long haul. I recently compared it to wearing someone else's designer shoes... You know they're not yours, and they're a little too big, and even though you like walking around in them and you get a lot of compliments, they give you a blister, and in the end you can't wait to take them off. It was JUST like that. (Shoe analogies = always handy.)

So now it's Friday night, and Dave and Luke are here to watch "Curb Your Enthusiasm," so there's no more time for wallowing or looking back. As Larry David would say, this night looks like it's going to be "pretty...pretty...pretty good."