If you’re like me, occasionally old sayings pop into your head and you go, “ain’t it the truth?” Well sir, today’s blog title is indeed the truth for these most certainly are the best and worst of times.

I’ve been attempting to articulate what I’m feeling over the last two weeks and finding that run on sentences run away with themselves. I’ve found that the simplest way to put it really is: Best of times, worst of times. You see, after much discussion and only three years later, AJB and I have decided to move. If you’ve seen our magnificent home, you might be wondering why. Then again, if you’ve seen our magnificent home, you may already understand the reasons. This house is truly a sight to be seen, overlooking the grand Arroyo with majestic mountains in the distance, flora, fauna, ancient trees, artistic attention to detail, nooks, crannies, dreamy landscaping and just a stone’s throw from the Pasadena Bridge. All that is true, but while it comes with a great deal of benefits, it also comes with it’s fair share of burdens. It’s not just that it’s hard to maintain, it’s that every job doubles in cost due to the size and historic nature of the house. There is also the issue of living in one of Pasadena’s busiest and clusterfuckiest areas: The Rose Bowl.

Alright, I admit, we should have thought about all that when we moved in (and we did), but we were fairly certain we could handle it. We also hoped that we’d get used to the noise and the traffic. I haven’t. Furthermore, I’m convinced this house is just too big for us. In a mere 5 years all of AJB’s kids will be off to college and we’ll have less need for space. I’m not a big house kind of person anyway. I do love so many things about this house, but we’ve never really claimed it as our own. In the end, the cons outweigh all the impressive attributes on mostly an emotional level. This has always been my house, it’s never been my home.

Today the movers came. We’re staging the house and getting it all prettied up to sell. We’re fairly confident it will sell, but you just never know. These are uncertain times. Meanwhile, the search for a homier house and that desperate “what if we never find the house of our dreams” feeling is setting in. I worry about such things and fear that even though I know we’re doing the right thing, it may not pay off. I hope it will and I’m attempting to stay positive, but again…you just never know.

Over the next couple of weeks the house will be cleared out, prepped, repaired, polished, and primped. Photographs will be taken, ads will be placed, and strangers will walk along my halls, peek into my closet, and poke around in my drawers. I can’t help but think about all the “what ifs” and ponder all the ideas and dreams we had for this house. All the changes we would make, all the gardens I would tend, the additions and subtractions – none of which ever really came to pass. Should I look upon this house as a learning experience? What lessons will I take to the new house?

Regardless of how much I know we’re right, I can’t help but feel sad. I find that I’m constantly reminding myself that we’re doing the right thing, that something better is on the horizon. Burdens aside, I will miss this house because it symbolizes so many things and has been a source of good and bad feelings over the last three years. My emotions are in a turmoil. I suppose I won’t have clarification until we find a new house, until this house sells and we’re able to make a clean break. Only then will I have certain closure.