All along this process, on an intellectual level, I knew this chapter of our lives was going to close. But not until I had trouble finding a place to sit and nowhere to sleep did it hit me viscerally. And then came the emotions, the memories, and the inevitable longing for my comfort zone. In fact, I think I'm actually mourning the death of that comfort zone. Consistency, stability, and routine all characterize that place -- and we're ripping it apart to embark on a crazy adventure. We're now a little more than a week from close. Our home is rapidly becoming just a house. Allow me a little melancholy for a while. It will pass as the next chapter begins.
T
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A Minimalist
A Minimalist A blog post I've recently been involved with helping to clear out the living spaces of someone who died. These are a few of...
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