If These Wall Could Talk

12 weeks from our big move and this is where we are...

Our realtor brought in a stager to tell us what to leave in the house for her to use when we get ready to show our house to prospective buyers. She told us to remove anything in the house that is personal or has a unique quality that might be off-putting to some. After 18 years of struggling to build a personality into our house, we are now dismantling it, day by day. I almost broke into tears yesterday when my daughter took down the glow-in-the-dark stars we put up on her ceiling. All of our family photos are put away, leaving ghost marks on the walls and in the dust. And then the dust is gone, too.

Each pump of my heart corresponds to my waffling emotions. I'm so ready for a young family to come into this house and bring it to life anew and I'm so sad to see such a big part of our family's lives change.

Along with paint, these walls are infused with residue from our past, but the evidence of that is only in our memories now. Angry holes have been patched and painted over. Dusty neglected corners have been swept out and exposed for all to see. The tears and laughter feel like a long time ago in this big space with bare walls and minimal furniture. Everything echoes.

In a few days, a professional will bring in pieces to accent our house. These will be non offensive, esthetically pleasing and without any character, so that the people who view the house can imprint their own character on it. I joked with my husband that maybe it wasn't a compliment when she said I could keep some of the artwork I already owned up on the walls, because maybe that meant my taste in art is very vanilla. My daughter joked with me that we'll be living in a house that feels like a hotel until escrow closes.

It's true that our house will look generic enough for anyone to feel at home, but we know about the blood (literally), sweat and tears that built this place. Now matter what's on the walls.