I couldn’t even bring myself to open this email for several days, and of course when I finally decided to, it was at work. So then I had to go cry for a while.
This is my grandparents’ house, which was built by my great-great-grandpa and has been in the family since. After my grandparents and great aunt and uncle passed away, my parents spent quite a bit of time up in the U.P. cleaning it up, selling the furniture, and deciding what everyone in the family wanted to keep. We all want to keep the house, but nobody wants to live in Menominee, Michigan.
So now it’s time to sell it.
I don’t know why I’m having so much trouble dealing with this, but I am. I keep dreaming about it and recalling strange details, like the sound of the pantry door closing, and the way the chairs on the porch smelled. It feels kind of like losing my grandparents all over again, together with a big part of my childhood.
I didn’t want to go back to the house after my great-aunt died a little over a year ago, because I knew I’d just cry the whole time. Matt and I left town right after the funeral and stayed in a hotel. I’ve wanted to go back and see it once more before it’s sold, so I’m hoping it’s still ours in the spring.