It’s been a long road to acceptance of saying farewell to Iowa. I told my friends, the hardest part is going to be saying goodbye to my house, knowing I will never be able to go inside it again. And I literally imagined myself having a breakdown every time I thought about it.
During my last full day, I had a lot of time alone as I got it ready for the next homeowners. I focused mostly on the cleaning tasks at hand. But during the in-between: going upstairs, downstairs, leaving rooms and entering rooms, the concern needled its way into my thoughts, how will I say goodbye?
But, I found unexpected peace that last evening, and while I am not one to believe in signs very often, I’d like to believe that God gave me a gift, wiping away the dread of farewell,. For a moment, time stood still and I was amazed.
My kids know me by my love of sunsets. They text me when they see a particularly good one–and they don’t fuss too much when we are on vacation and have to hurry to catch the sun lowering to the horizon.
Many times, I’ve driven down our street around sunset-time, and I’d catch glimpses of the beauty amid the houses and trees. Sometimes, the sky showed off to the west of our deck, and sometimes, I sneaked a peak between our neighbors’ yards.
But on my very last night, locking up the house, the sunset was EVERYWHERE. Cotton candy-pink clouds billowed to the south and east and west and north–from my driveway and my deck and bathing the front of my house in a coral pink glow. Any onlooking neighbors might have thought that Angie was finally losing it as I boomeranged around the perimeter of our house, trying to catch the best view. But the best view was every view.
And I just knew.
I knew that I could leave. That our time was not only ending because we chose it, but because it was the time to go.
So, the next day, we hugged our boys and headed East. We grabbed a coke at Casey’s and a Dutch letter on the way, admired the head-high cornfields and rolling hills, and the big beautiful Midwest skies.
Funny little memory–when we approached the Mississippi River (the border of our state), you won’t believe what was on the radio–
“I’ve Had the Time of My Life”…LOL!
What a funny little thing. But a nice way to laugh amid the tears.
Oh, I have had the time of my life these past 17 years, IOWA. I have so enjoyed your beautiful backdrop to our family’s story.
Until next time, friend.
You are certainly the heartland…the land of my heart.
angie dicken 