Judi: A House Full of Memories

It’s a strange thing to be leaving the home we’ve lived in and loved for so many years.

Every room holds a memory.

Recently Kent and I sat down and watched some of the family videos we made over the years. Seeing those glimpses of life inside this house brought back so many wonderful memories. In those videos we saw our grown children as little kids again—running through the house, laughing, celebrating birthdays and holidays.

It was a reminder of how much time has passed… and how much we have all changed.

Our house has changed too.

When we first moved here there was wallpaper on the walls, yellow countertops and bathroom sinks, and linoleum floors. Over the years we slowly updated and modernized things, one project at a time. But the biggest change has come in these last few months as we prepared to move.

We cleaned every nook and cranny.

We repainted every door and door frame, every room was repainted or touched up, as well as the front porch, front and back door and shutters. Every unfinished project was finished and many other improvements were made. The house looks better than it ever has.

One of the most challenging activities was downsizing a lifetime of memories, hobbies and personal items. One by one, every room was emptied. We knew we each had two very large suitcases and a carry-on to take on the plane to Guadalajara.

Furniture was sold.
Other things were given away.
Piece by piece, the house slowly let go of the life we lived inside it.

Now when I walk through the rooms, it almost feels like someone else’s home.

For myself, the emotional toll of all these changes has been heavy at times. I have cried and fretted. I have also felt full of joy and hope. And more than once, I have questioned our sanity.

I have hugged my house.
I have said thank you to my kitchen.
I have stood in the backyard gazing at the fig trees that are just beginning to leaf out again.

And I have looked up—many times—into the huge live oak tree that stands in our neighbor’s yard but has always felt like part of ours. It is one of the most beautiful living things I have bonded with here.

Some of the hardest goodbyes have been to our animals.

Our three dogs—Boo, Coco, and Sophie—are now in new homes.

Boo is living with Kent’s sister in Utah, along with her two recently adopted senior dogs. He seems to be doing very well and apparently loves the wet food she feeds them every day. I’m sure he feels a little cheated that we never fed him quite so well.

Coco and Sophie are now with two of our dear neighbors, Reno and Loretta. They love those dogs deeply. When we discovered that Sophie would not be allowed to enter Mexico because of her breed, they offered to adopt both dogs so they could stay together. The four of them have bonded even more beautifully than we could have hoped.

Then there were our two tabby cats.

We adopted them from a rescue only about seven months before the idea of moving to Mexico ever entered our minds. They were such love bugs, and I grew very attached to them. They loved me too.

But as we began looking at rental homes in Mexico, we quickly realized that most furnished rentals only allow small, well-behaved dogs. Cats—especially in furnished homes—are rarely an option.

So with heavy hearts we returned them to the rescue. I truly grieved letting them go.

Saying goodbye to animals you love is no small thing.

Now my mind sometimes wanders ahead to Mexico, where we know there are many street dogs and feral cats. I suspect we will meet a few of them along the way and make new animal friends. We will have the opportunity to volunteer with animal rescues.

For now, though, I’m learning that letting go is part of beginning something new.

And while we are leaving this house behind, we are carrying its memories with us.

Every single one of them.

— Judi

GO TO KENT’S MARCH 15 POST