I had walked into a room where I knew at once that much had been thought and felt, a room where books had souls, where life was lived at great intensity in the silence. May Sarton
I have not had a moment to reflect on this fast moving change in my life. The ball is rolling ever so quickly as we prepare to leave Simplicity and anticipate our new life on the bend of Rumley Run. Tasks and projects dominate these days. Overwhelm easily sits beside us. As we sign legal documents, schedule appointments, handle phone calls, the pace is rapid and immediate. There is an intense timeliness to this buy and sell process. I can feel out of breath without doing anything physical. My mind spins and loops around for another quote, question, task. I know a different urgency will also happen once we are in our new home. It feel endless.
That is why a personal letter arriving in the mail brings a moment to pull back from all the busyness, providing the opportunity for a much needed breath. Last week Simplicity received a love letter. A young woman and her family had visited during the open house and fell into the magical spell of this old house. Her finances did not afford the possibility to purchase, but that did not stop her from sharing her feelings.
On our family’s journey to find our perfect first home, we came across Simplicity online. Looking at pictures, we loved the simple beauty of your home. Knowing it was over our price range, I had to convince my boyfriend to ‘just look’ at the open house. As my boyfriend, daughter and I walked up to the porch and through your home, we fell in love with every creaky step, as Simplicity told us her love story.
My best girlfriend said, “When you see the one, you will feel it.”
I didn’t understand what she meant until we experienced it. We were overwhelmed by the perfection of Simplicity. Simple understated elegance.
I understand I am breaking the rules by sending this, but I thought I’d extend our love for your home. Whoever takes on the life of Simplicity couldn’t be luckier.
Simplicity is loved. Her new owners indicate great appreciation for her wise old structure and I have no doubt they will love her well. I have received requests from friends who wish to come say a last good bye to her, offering gratitude for times shared in her rooms. She deserves a proper farewell. And now I wonder, how do you say good bye to a faithful and dear friend? How does one recall all the stories of living here that fill countless chapters of our lives? How do we say thank you?