2 Weeks Road, Danvers, MA

After the Parish Council meeting tonight I was talking with a friend about saying goodbye to places you love. I recounted the last day I spent in my mother's house, a place I called home for some 36 years. It was a year after my mother's death, the house had been sold and on a Thursday afternoon I was leaving it for the last time before the new owners moved in.

I had a hard time leaving. I didn't know how to say goodbye to a place that had been home for so long. I found myself walking aimlessly from room to room. I stopped in my parents' bedroom and remembered that it was the place I had last seen my father before he died. And I remembered my mother's bureau, now gone, and the things she kept on top of it. I remembered going into that bedroom before going to my own and kissing my parents goodnight. And without any plan on my part, I kissed the wall and left the room...

I went from room to room all through the house, remembering life in that room and then kissing the wall goodbye. Each room received a kiss. I left the house through the porch door but went around to the front door for my last goodbye. I thought of all the love and memories that door kept safe for so long - and gently kissed it farewell.

I sometimes drive by that white cape at 2 Weeks Road but I've never stopped to go in. I think the new (now not-so-new) owners would welcome me, but I've said goodbye to that house. I sometimes wonder how they've changed things inside but I don't want anything to spoil my memories of just how it was when I lived there. I guess what they say is right: you can't go home again...

It was in the fall that I kissed my home goodbye. I remember leaving a chrysanthemum and a note for the new folks on the kitchen table. I hope they're happy in the place I used to call home. I'm still happy with the memories I took away and the kisses I left behind.