When I was a much younger man, I had this thought… “Every day dawns eventually.” And it does…One day, the rapture will happen!
Well, I’ve been living at number 33 for almost nineteen and a half years. It’s a rented house, so it had to happen one day, and it has. My landlady has decided to sell number 33, so I must move out.
33 is more than a house: it’s a home. It has been the roof over my head. It has protected me from wind and rain and snow. It has been a comfort and a place to come home to, a place of safety. I shall miss it.
As my move date approaches, I’ve had to pack things in boxes and plastic sacks. I’ve given things away that I will not need in my new home. I’m downsizing from a three bed to a two bed; from a lounge and dining room to one large reception room and two beds. It takes some doing and I’m plowing through it day by day. As things disappear into boxes, 33 becomes less and less my home. It’s an odd feeling: sadness, yet tinged with excitement in anticipation of a new chapter about to begin. A new start in a new home…One fades as the other approaches.
So, my heartfelt thanks to number 33 for all it has been to me; for the way it has loved me and cared for me…Farewell, old friend and be good to your next charges.