It's been a day here, quite a day.
Friends of ours, very good friends of ours, are moving out of the Keys. I could cry, in fact I have cried. I'm not alone in the sad feeling, the lives of pretty much everyone they know are touched with sadness right now. Our friends who have lived in the Keys for decades are downsizing, and moving a little north of here. It's time, this I realize. This doesn't mean I'm happy about it at all. I, along with everyone else that knows and loves them, know they shouldn't have to spend so much time, effort, money and angst caring for a large home.
The home is beautiful, magnificent really. Its very unique in its architecture. Designed and built by our friends, because back in they day if they didn't do it themselves, it wouldn't have gotten done. They had no money, it was I guess what many people would say on a wing & a prayer. Talking with our friends tonight, I heard the story that when they decided this was what they were going to do, others said "you will fail" to which of course they dug their heels in just that much more to insure they would not fail. Instead, they thrived.
The home saw great joy, great sadness, many parties, and many guests. MANY guests. Its bittersweet for them, this leaving of the Keys, leaving of their beloved home. Its a relief in a way, knowing it is going to someone who will care for it the way it deserves to be, who will appreciate it as they have done; someone who knows a good thing when they see it. There's great emotion attached to the home, its comforting in a way knowing its going to someone who will really love it, care for it, and improve it when needed.
What all this leaving of the Keys means is purge, purge, purge. Isn't it amazing what we accumulate. Yes, it is. Tack on living somewhere for a few decades, raising a family, running a business out of the home, and so forth, well stuff REALLY accumulates. We went down to help, they were becoming overwhelmed. Lots of closets, LOTS AND LOTS OF CLOSETS, and storage. Wow, there was stuff. It was good, making piles for different charities and people, who gets what, who can use what, and doing our best to make sure things get used, not discarded. It was quite a job. But, it is under control. They've had family there daily for a while, Mr. Happy Vegan as well, and today I added my two cents into the fray.
After all was said and done, we sat on their patio drinking wine & cocktails out of plastic cups, eating snacks on whatever we could find lying around, and sitting on "chairs" fashioned from giant paint containers and whatnot. We listened to more stories, and with each memory shared my thought of "I wish I lived here sooner, I wished I lived here sooner" became more and more intense. Our friends were true pioneers, real adventurers. I can guarantee that you (nor I) will probably not meet any others like them, their drive & determination, their work ethic, their dedication. If you knew really what they went through in the early days, you'd simply sit and scratch your head as I do. Let's hope she doesn't read this and discover this small story I'm sharing: one of the pictures that fluttered out of a box was of the Mrs. bathing in a wheelbarrow on the beach. Yes, you read that correctly. There was no plumbing back in the day on this rustic street, the house wasn't built. So, when she wanted a bath, the Mr. saw to it she had one. In a big wheelbarrow seated smack dab on the beach. It was hilarious to see, and kind of summed up their philosophy of "whatever it takes." Pioneers.
It is very hard to say goodbye. This is Mr. Happy Vegan's best Keys manfriend, and the Mrs. is a favorite person of mine... I respect her, she's guided me immensely as I transitioned here, and she was one of the angels who appeared here at Deer Run while I was 1800 miles away caring for a dying relative for a few months. These people bring me great comfort just knowing they were there as I drove past their house every time I went out. Comforting in their strength and stability, role models I guess you'd say.
They're leaving. Tonight is their last night in that magnificent home. The home he designed, the home she poured all the concrete for, where she bathed in a wheelbarrow. Sure we'll see them again, its not that. But, its just never going to be the same.
Change can be good, but no one ever said it would be easy.
Friends of ours, very good friends of ours, are moving out of the Keys. I could cry, in fact I have cried. I'm not alone in the sad feeling, the lives of pretty much everyone they know are touched with sadness right now. Our friends who have lived in the Keys for decades are downsizing, and moving a little north of here. It's time, this I realize. This doesn't mean I'm happy about it at all. I, along with everyone else that knows and loves them, know they shouldn't have to spend so much time, effort, money and angst caring for a large home.
The home is beautiful, magnificent really. Its very unique in its architecture. Designed and built by our friends, because back in they day if they didn't do it themselves, it wouldn't have gotten done. They had no money, it was I guess what many people would say on a wing & a prayer. Talking with our friends tonight, I heard the story that when they decided this was what they were going to do, others said "you will fail" to which of course they dug their heels in just that much more to insure they would not fail. Instead, they thrived.
The home saw great joy, great sadness, many parties, and many guests. MANY guests. Its bittersweet for them, this leaving of the Keys, leaving of their beloved home. Its a relief in a way, knowing it is going to someone who will care for it the way it deserves to be, who will appreciate it as they have done; someone who knows a good thing when they see it. There's great emotion attached to the home, its comforting in a way knowing its going to someone who will really love it, care for it, and improve it when needed.
What all this leaving of the Keys means is purge, purge, purge. Isn't it amazing what we accumulate. Yes, it is. Tack on living somewhere for a few decades, raising a family, running a business out of the home, and so forth, well stuff REALLY accumulates. We went down to help, they were becoming overwhelmed. Lots of closets, LOTS AND LOTS OF CLOSETS, and storage. Wow, there was stuff. It was good, making piles for different charities and people, who gets what, who can use what, and doing our best to make sure things get used, not discarded. It was quite a job. But, it is under control. They've had family there daily for a while, Mr. Happy Vegan as well, and today I added my two cents into the fray.
After all was said and done, we sat on their patio drinking wine & cocktails out of plastic cups, eating snacks on whatever we could find lying around, and sitting on "chairs" fashioned from giant paint containers and whatnot. We listened to more stories, and with each memory shared my thought of "I wish I lived here sooner, I wished I lived here sooner" became more and more intense. Our friends were true pioneers, real adventurers. I can guarantee that you (nor I) will probably not meet any others like them, their drive & determination, their work ethic, their dedication. If you knew really what they went through in the early days, you'd simply sit and scratch your head as I do. Let's hope she doesn't read this and discover this small story I'm sharing: one of the pictures that fluttered out of a box was of the Mrs. bathing in a wheelbarrow on the beach. Yes, you read that correctly. There was no plumbing back in the day on this rustic street, the house wasn't built. So, when she wanted a bath, the Mr. saw to it she had one. In a big wheelbarrow seated smack dab on the beach. It was hilarious to see, and kind of summed up their philosophy of "whatever it takes." Pioneers.
It is very hard to say goodbye. This is Mr. Happy Vegan's best Keys manfriend, and the Mrs. is a favorite person of mine... I respect her, she's guided me immensely as I transitioned here, and she was one of the angels who appeared here at Deer Run while I was 1800 miles away caring for a dying relative for a few months. These people bring me great comfort just knowing they were there as I drove past their house every time I went out. Comforting in their strength and stability, role models I guess you'd say.
They're leaving. Tonight is their last night in that magnificent home. The home he designed, the home she poured all the concrete for, where she bathed in a wheelbarrow. Sure we'll see them again, its not that. But, its just never going to be the same.
Change can be good, but no one ever said it would be easy.
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