And... that's all folks!

We listed our house in September, received an offer during the first week the house was on the market... And today, Pete closed on our house (I gave Pete Power of Attorney to sign documents on my behalf as I had difficulty getting time off due to a crazy school schedule). We are done with this project, and are back to being very mobile -- with only the commitment of an apartment contract to hold us to the area. [That being said, we still have significant interest in this area -- church, friends, family, a job that Pete enjoys... just no longer physical ties to this region.]

We went there for the last time last week to pick up the last few remaining items in the house -- a bed and desk my grandpa had made me long ago. I had a few tears -- mostly for the life and wonderful memories that we had there: hanging out in front of the fire on chilly afternoons, having friends/family over, planting things each spring and watching green things grow from the ground (mostly weeds, I will admit -- but proud of my few flowers that came up), among other things. But leaving reminds me of something Pete said multiple times when we moved in: A house this old is never completely your own... you just get to take care of it for a little while.

The apartment suits our life for now -- its easy, low maintenance, and allows us to be mobile -- something that will be desirable when I apply to residency programs in a year. But, its a strange feeling downsizing/regressing in our adult life from a settled life involving a 5-bedroom, 2-car garage house on 2.something acres and most meals being fairly homemade... to a 1 bedroom apartment with most meals being convenience foods (cold cereal, prepackaged salads, etc). However, I am thankful for our current living situation and for having an understanding/supportive spouse as it allows me to pursue my goal of becoming a doctor, and focus on my learning/school right now.

Mortise and tenon joints... I will miss these reminders that our house was unique and old.

Pete moving the last of the bedframe my Grandpa made me from the 3rd floor.

I will miss this magnificent magnolia and its plate sized leaves in all seasons.

Looking back... leaving the house for the last time.

One final good-bye, and "Congrats" balloon for the new owner.

I had opportunity to meet the new owner a few weeks ago when my mom and sister came to town to help us move a few more things from the place. A middle-aged man with a teenage daughter. I am pleased that he is interested in the history of the house and details of the house. I hope it serves them well.

Eta: I am not yet done with the blog. Though it did start out as a way to chronicle the progress of our house projects... it became a way to share what has been going on with our life... and I am not yet sure I am ready to give it up. 

9-11-01

The day that changed America.

I can't believe that it has been 10 years already. I was just thinking about that, 10 years ago since I started my last 2nd year of college. I can't believe it has been that long.

I remember exactly where I was when I heard that America had been attacked -- I was going through the Physics building at U of MN when my friend G stopped and told me that the twin towers had been attacked in NYC, and people were suspecting Muslim terrorists. My friend G is an Arab-American, a non-practicing seik (a non-Muslim religious group), and he was worried about backlash on campus towards Arabs, Muslims, and others.

[By this time, I had a group of friends that I hung out with at school that were Muslim. I hung out with this group, in part because aside from being a very neat group of individuals -- the way that they practice their religion is not so different from the way that I practice my religion (no drinking, no dancing, conservative dress mostly, etc.), so I felt comfortable around them. Once I realized that the news was real, and America had indeed been attacked on its own soil... I worried about their safety (thankfully, nothing happened ever while I was in school).]

Anyway, at first I did not believe him, disbelief and shock tempered my reaction. However, I then went to join him and many others in the journalism building to watch the news. It was there I saw my friend, Thelma -- a NYC native who had dinner atop the Twin Towers not even a week prior to the attack. I know that she worried about people she knew that could be in those Towers and who perhaps perished on that day. Being around her, made it feel like I knew people and had a connection to the biggest city in the nation.

After I went home, I went to the neighbor's (to babysit for the evening so they could go to memorial services for those that died in the attack) The dad worked in finance, and his brother worked for the financial firm hit hardest by the attacks. Thankfully, his brother had stepped out to get a coffee just before the airplane hit the tower. However, the dad received many emails from those people trapped above where the plane hit and who said good-bye that day. Through their pain, I realized further that though I lived far away from NYC and Washington DC -- the effects of the loss of life on that day were not limited to the East Coast.

About 2 months after 9-11, I visited NYC for a debate tournament at Columbia University. I smelt the acrid air from the still smoldering buildings, and saw the bits of office trash still in the street. Walking around, I saw the memorials outside the firestations -- collections of candles and photographs, commemorating those firefighters that went into the buildings as many were rushing out and never made it back home. And, again it hit me -- America lost a lot that day.

I have since traveled, not back to NYC, but elsewhere. Reminders of 9-11 are seen in the increased airport security, things related to both the Iraqi War and Afganistan war in both located here and in other countries. Joining the armed services is no longer just a good way to get college paid for, it now involves actual risk and likely deployment. Things have certainly changed since that day. The day that the facade of our safety was shattered, and America was rallied to fight a nebulous enemy of terrorism at home and abroad.

Thinking of and remembering all those that lost their life that day or since in either war, and all of their friends/families/loved ones.

The Moving Wall

This morning despite the rain, Pete and I made the drive to see the moving wall ~ a half size replica of the Vietnam War Memorial. It was quite moving to see the names of the 58,159 men and women that either lost their lives or went missing during the unpopular Vietnam War. However, it was even more moving to see the number of people gathered at the wall on such a soggy morning, watching the reaction to finding the name of a fallen loved one, and seeing the items left at the moving wall: a bronze star, a hat, letters, flowers, etc.

One of the letters that was left there this morning, seemed especially timely... It was a letter written by an injured Vietnam War soldier to a fallen friend, and it brought tears to my eyes. It was only 3 paragraphs long, and spoke of the soldier's disappointment at acts of Congress preventing the U.S. from achieving a victory in the Vietnam War. It discussed why this injured soldier has kept his promise to never march in a parade.

After visiting this somber memorial, I realize why war tributes are so important, especially for those who fought or lost a loved one. It also made me see why victory is so important to the person's who fight in the war, as it makes it easier to make sense of loss.