Wow. Just Tuesday morning I handed the keys for Bessie over to her new owner.
But still without regret. After I handed over the keys I was a little surprised at how unprepared I was. For the way I would feel to hear someone else opening and closing the cabinet doors and shuffling around as I stood outside. For how my heart ached as the reality set in that she was no longer mine to enter, to drive, to cook in.
Before Bessie, I’d owned a house. Which became a home as we repaired and refurbished it. But Bessie was the first home that was designed and built for my use. Plan and layout born with my dream in mind. A dream, as I’ve mentioned before, that I’ve had since childhood. Now it feels strange but cool to think of someone else making it their own.
So many good times with that home on wheels. My carriage, my steed. Safe haven. Time alone and time with friends. I am happy to have those memories and will carry them with me as fortune guides my way.
Bessie, may the road rise to meet you. But not too fast.