Last morning sitting on the deck watching the sun rise over the mountains.
Last morning with the frogs and red-winged blackbirds.
Last morning listening to the wind in the ponderosa.
Last day of using tree stumps as deck furniture.
Last day of hanging my laundry all over the house and yard to dry.
Last day of listening to my neighbor make really weird noises with his dog.
Last day of worrying about getting my driveway plowed.
Yes, I worry about that every single day, even in the summer; March 2019 traumatized me.
Last day of being a Mancos resident.
Last day with PO Box 843.
Last day of cool mountain breezes.
Last day in the brown leather recliner – it fits better in this house than in my storage unit.
Last day of Netflix.
Last day of banging my head on the sloped ceiling.
Last fire in the woodstove.
Last day with my bully rufous hummingbird.
Last of the spinach out of my garden.
Last climb up my sketchy stairs.
In this home, I have recovered from a (brutal) breakup.
I have walked by my son’s side as he faced 16 years in prison.
I have collapsed with relief when the judge didn’t send him away.
I have revived long lost friendships – both near and far.
I have shared intimate secrets with amazing women on this deck.
I have cried, sobbed, wept myself dry.
I lived in the living room while my innards healed.
I lost my father while living here.
I fell in love in this home.
I’ve had a lot of sex in this house.
My children have come to consider this their home away from home.
Elvis has worn a path across the yard by chasing the fucking tennis ball fifty-two-thousand times.
I’ve been pulled out of the snow in my driveway at least fifty-two-thousand times.
I broke my foot in this yard – that involved Elvis and a skunk.
I’ve killed countless mice – including the one that drowned in my bucket of cleaning water yesterday.
I’ve slept under the stars here on the same deck that was covered in 6 feet of snow last winter.
I have clocked thousands of hours in phone time with my Mommy.
I came here lost. I found my soul again. My heart.
I have loved every second of being here, even when I wasn’t enjoying myself.
This has been my most cherished home. Never, ever, have I wished that I lived elsewhere.
And as difficult as it is to leave, to part with my insular little world, I’m ready to close the door on this 3 1/2 year chapter of my life.
It’s time for something new.
Goodbye old friend.
My gratitude is boundless.
A piece of my heart will always remain.
One thought on “last cup of coffee”
Love this. Love you.