The Last Day

I was thinking about it as today is our last day in this house. I’ve lived in the Trafford area of Manchester since 1976. My family moved into the Old Trafford area and I married and moved to Stretford, then we moved to Flixton for 7 years before moving into this house where we have been for the last 28 years.

I know this area very well, every road, every short cut. I’ve seen it change over the years. I’ve seen new roads built, houses and building demolished. I could almost drive blind folded, except that would be dangerous.

I’m very familiar with everything and it feels very strange doing things and knowing it is the last time. I won’t be coming back to this area again. I will go to Stockport to my daughter’s house, which is about 15 miles from here and my son has now moved away to Norwich. So I have no reason to venture back this way and I don’t particularly want to.

We have someone in to give the kitchen and cooker a good clean. I want it to be sparkling for the young couple buying their first house. My four walls will become theirs and it feels surreal.

It’s hard to know when it will sink in exactly; I’m never coming back here; I’m never going to stand in my lounge and look out of the window again. I’m not going to see the plants change as spring turns to summer.

It’s goodbye to everything. I’m not sad. I’m melancholy. This has been a big part of my life and now it is time to move on.

Related to:

  1. Before the move
  2. This post

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