The apartment closing was today. I am no longer a resident of Brooklyn in even the vaguest sense.
We went back to do a final clear out of the apartment on Sunday, and I was surprised by how hard it was to say goodbye. So much of my life was lived in that apartment. That was where we decided to have kids, where we learned having those kids might not be so easy, where we drowned our sorrows or celebrated our victories with barbecues in the garden, where we learned how to hold a newborn baby, where we folded mountains of newborn baby laundry, where the babies learned to roll over, to crawl, to walk, where someone called me Mama for the first time.
Someone else has the keys to the apartment that holds all those memories. I hope she enjoys it as much as we did.