today i begin the process of moving my 94 year old grandmother out of the house she has always lived in.... the house described in yesterday's post, in fact. one of the hollies was cut down long ago... the other two are sick. the house is old and falling apart... and it's time to let it go.
lifetimes of memories are in that house - the air is thick with the Ghost of All That's Passed. my children are upset we are selling the house and as sad and as sorry as i am to see the old place go, there's a piece of me that understands that nothing is permanent, everything passes away, and the only piece of ground you get to inhabit forever is the one they bury you in. i am not going to be bound by my great-grandfather's idea of what and where a house should be, any more than i will be bound by what and who he thought a woman should be.
i used to wonder sometimes why this task has come to me... and then, this morning, re-reading yesterday's post, it occured to me...it's come to me because i am the one who is strong enough to do it. and so i will go cheerfully into that good night, of anger, and hurt and fear, and i will remember my holly trees forever.