My pretty little Tampa house, all sunlight and tropical green, has sold. We’re going through all the steps, but we have a deal. The title company called yesterday.
Our homes are the repository for memories of all the major events of our lives and I took a walk back through them the other day.
The first year I had the house, four hurricanes threatened and I was stuck in Tampa riding them all out while my cat, Tyler, was in Pacific Grove, CA, being tended to by his sitter. Every time I’d start to get a flight back to him, another hurricane would be heading our way.
The first year I had the house I was bigtime single for the first time in decades. I enjoyed it all–the drama, the craziness, the unknown, and my home was Ground Zero for that life. Relationships started there and relationships ended there. I had dinner parties and game parties and watched videos for hours hunkered down in my cute little bedroom with Tyler and then with Riley. It was my haven.
When circumstances, not choice made Tampa my base, my home became my primary residence. It was the launching point for dog dates, mall crawls and coffee klatches and it turned out to be a very nice life, indeed. It was Riley’s first home and then home to three more dogs and a cat. It was where I met and then said goodbye to our chow, Puddin’.
It was the site of some of the most miserable relationship issues in recent history and also some of the most wonderful.
I clearly remember the first step I took into the house with my real estate agent and how I knew immediately it would be “home.”
I hope that my largely happy life there imbued the place with good vibes.
I’m sad that I won’t see it again, except in my mind’s eye, where I see it very clearly. But there are new, happy memories being made every day here in northern California.
I hope the new owners have the same sense of excitement I did when I first saw it, and that they are very happy there.
And, I hope the deal goes through quickly with no issues.