I mentioned in an earlier post that my parents moved house at the end of September.
It really was a momentous occasion as they have lived there for the last 46 years.
I left home when I was 18 and moved from student accommodation to a variety of flat / house shares until I bought my own house.
At that point I was “off” men and had decided to be an independent woman living alone with my cat. Of course as soon as I made that decision, I met my husband.
Later he moved in with me. I was married from that house and brought both my babies home to it. But when our second boy was born we felt that we had outgrown the house and moved into our current one.
Because I have moved so many times, I don’t get too attached to houses, but the one constant in my life has always been my parents’ house.
Me, my brother and sister-in-law went to help them move and said our final goodbyes.
I took a special moment to say goodbye to my old bedroom. A tiny box room where I spent my teenage years, dreaming of my future.
My parents have moved to a bungalow which will suit them much better for the next stage of their lives. It needs a lot of work doing to it but the house has a lovely atmosphere and I’m sure they’ll be happy there.
Now I just need to remember which house they are living in and not end up at the old house whenever I go to visit.