Two months ago we made the decision to give up full time RVing and come back home to Minnesota. Yesterday really made it seem real; it's now official. Yesterday we took our RV and truck back to the dealer where we bought them almost two years ago, and our dealer Kim, who has become a good friend, has them on her sales lot. We've removed every trace of the past 20 months from the RV, we've taken down the pictures and accessories that made it our home, and have returned it to it's original right off the assembly line condition, ready for someone else to move into, make their own, and love and enjoy.
It's an emotional time. Our home for almost two years, is now sitting on a sales lot, waiting for someone else. Someone who will have no idea where we have taken that house. Once it sells, the new owners will probably never know how far north, south, east and west that movable home has been. They won't know the good times we had in Alaska with our two grandsons. They won't be able to hear the stories about the big ones that got away, or the big ones that were caught...like the 35 and 50 pound salmon or the 98 pound halibut! They'll never know the excitement of seeing the ocean, the mountains or the rustic Alaskan campgrounds for the first time. The new owners won't know that we then pulled the RV to the opposite end of the United States and spent 4 months in Florida, on another ocean, one with white sandy beaches instead of rocky shores. They won't know that their new home has been to our nation's capitol, or to the battlefields of the Civil War.
And how could they know that we crossed the Canadian border again, and spent many happy days exploring the far northeastern provinces, all the way to the tip top of New Foundland. They also wouldn't know that we traveled with dear friends, sharing countless pleasant hours inside the metal walls visiting, eating and playing cards.
They'll also never know that we continued on to the completely opposite end of the country again, to California and the southwestern states. They'll not hear the chatter of my niece's little guy as he visited us, nor my ohhs and ahhs as we caught a glimpse of the multi-million dollar mansions rising above the Pacific Ocean.
But there is one good thing. The new owners will never know the number of tears that once flooded the inside of their home. Hopefully they'll never know the loneliness that rose up in my heart when I thought of my kids, grandkids, mother and siblings back home in Minnesota.
Treat my home with love and kindness, new owners. It kept us warm and safe and will do the same for you. You can take your new house to many places, but don't be surprised if you hear the echos of it's past. It may have already been there!