Page 16 of Mountain Grump
Two weeks ago, I put my notice in at my apartment.
I put my notice in at my jobs.
I started the process of selling my furniture.
I deposited the check, purchased moving boxes, and packed my belongings.
Two weeks ago…
A traitorous tear rolls down my cheek.
This morning, I answered the door again. And the same man who delivered the letter was once more standing on the other side of the threshold.
But this time, he spoke.
He asked if I was ready.
And then he helped me carry my boxes and my one suitcase down to his waiting van. Before driving me to the airport and helping me carry my boxes all over again.
I didn’t know you could check cardboard boxes as luggage. But you can.
Uncle Jack knew that. He prepaid for it.
And when I landed in Denver this morning, there was another driver waiting. Another van. All paid for.
Two hours later, the new stranger slowed to a stop in front of this very house.
My house.
The stranger waited beside the van while I unlocked the front door with my key.
And he waited while I had a breakdown. Right here, where I’m standing now.
Two minutes later, I found the garage door opener sitting on the kitchen counter, on top of a box of microwave popcorn, the brand I used to love as a kid. Which led to another breakdown.
Then, with red-rimmed eyes, I went back outside, and the nice stranger helped me put all my boxes in the garage, next to Uncle Jack’s old pickup truck.
It didn’t feel right having someone else in the house. Not yet.
It felt right to do that work by myself.
Of course, at the time, I didn’t realize that even though the garage isattachedto the house, it’s notconnected. So, I had to haul them all across the gravel-patch yard area through the front door.
I open my eyes and look at all the boxes.
I’ll unpack tomorrow.
Taking another slow breath, I cut through the living room to the door next to the dresser with the TV, into the one and only bedroom.
My bedroom.
The bedroom part is on the left. And navy-blue curtains are pulled open, showing off a pair of windows that have the same amazing view as the back deck.
There’s a bed, with royal blue bedding folded inside a clear plastic storage cube sitting on top of the mattress. It has a plain wooden headboard pushed against the far wall, opposite the door, and a pair of matching nightstands.
Across from the foot of the bed, sharing a wall with the TV in the living room, is a closet, with room to hang my dresses beside the stacked washer and dryer.
And to my right is the sole bathroom.
