Today's MOZEN: Time to Move On

Words and photo by F LoBuono

It was a beautiful place. It still is. A great, big, shinning house on a hill - literally. Located at the base of the magnificent Palisades, it had a spectacular garden and breathtaking views of the Hudson River. We had all manor of wildlife visit our yard including deer and a family of fox. Eagles and hawks regularly soared above. The house itself, a Center Hall Colonial built in 1931, had many unique architectural elements like arched doorways, built-in glass and wood cabinets, and a huge fireplace.

For a time, I called it home. And, I was happy there. It was the center of activity for our extended family and friends. Many a meal was grilled in our back yard and countless gallons of beer, wine, and other libations were consumed. Christmas, Thanksgiving, and a myriad of other holidays where celebrated within its walls. The large house buzzed with life from so many visitors. Big sporting events were just another excuse to cook and spread good cheer. And, we had dogs and cats too, live their entire lives there and whose bones now lie in that sacred ground

To live in such an impressive house with such beautiful surroundings was the culmination of a lifetime of hopes and dreams. I was not born a child of means and worked hard for everything in my life. So, to have achieved something so spectacular was a source on pride, joy, and family.

There was laughter and tears. We experienced life to its fullest in so many ways.

But, then, as it so often does, life changed.

There were challenges in our marriage that proved insurmountable and, eventually, we went our separate ways, signaling the end for us, and the house as we knew it.

I moved into my apartment while my wife stayed behind to run the house. That was 7 years ago.

But, it proved impractical to maintain such a large place for basically one person and we looked to sell it. After nearly a year on the market, the house finally found a buyer. We are now confronted with the difficult task of emptying years of accumulated "stuff" - some of it full of nostalgia, but most simply crap. My aching back from days of hauling the "crap" is a testament to just how much of it there was!

However, it is not only physically challenging but emotionally, as well. Every time that I am there now, I look around and breath deeply, drinking in the surroundings, knowing full well that, shortly, it will be for the last time. And, I cry. I weep deeply, even bitterly, sometimes from a sense of loss and failure. At other times, the tears are warm and tender, harking to a happier time. In the end, they're just different sides of the same coin called LIFE. And, I more than accept it - I embrace it.

Here's to the new owners. May they be as happy and fulfilled as I once was in that magical place. As for me, it's time to move on . . .