I expect the next few weeks and probably months to be emotional and lots of tears will be shed. Actually I might cry all the way through the writing of this entry. But whatever ! I am no stranger to crying and firmly believe letting the tears flow is a good thing. I was in Fredericton on the weekend and drove by 619 Regent St. several times. Now the truth of it is, I didn’t actually drive by 619 Regent St, because it is no longer there. The house, the driveway, the shed and the playground across the street are no longer there. Not a trace that I could see but for me I see it all and I see the little girl who lived there. As kids every time we went to Moncton, Mom would tell us when we were driving by her old school. It was an empty field and we used to laugh and tease her. I so get it now. Places of my past are not there anymore and even if they are, they are no longer my places. I drive by my old school and it is no longer my school. The Mrs. White within its walls is not me. The Grade Four teacher is not me. Soon the person within these thick walls of brick and pine wainscotting, below the ground, with windows looking out to the sidewalks of Princess and Sydney Streets, will not be me. I am attempting to concentrate on the days I have left in this small, sweet space. I am ready to leave and not one bit ready at the same time. I signed a year’s lease with a very deliberate goal in mind and I am so grateful that all that has taken place exceeds my greatest expectations. This year on Princess St flew by . I wanted each season to firmly encase my healing and recovery. I wanted simplicity, solitude and sanctuary to give me the rest and respite I needed so badly when I drove down my driveway last June. This beautiful small space gave me all that in abundance. I had lonely times, lots of doubt , guilt ridden thoughts and struggle. I had nights of troubling dreams and shaking sobs. I finished a book here and started another. I watched the leaves turn and fall from the trees. I saw the snowbanks pile up to almost cover my windows. I heard the night traffic and it’s stillness. I woke to the morning bustle of school buses. I saw sunrises and sunsets from my vantage point looking down Princess St. toward the harbor. This is a year I’ll not soon forget. I was a 65 year old woman running away to the city and I felt like the seventeen year old girl who once did the same. I will pack my things. Caleb, Cody and Jenna will come and move me out just as they moved me in. I will leave and say goodbye to this place but I will take it with me. I will someday drive by and see my ground level turquoise windows and say to myself or to whoever is with me, “I lived there.” I lived here for a year, a wonderful gift of a year. I will leave a part of me in this space and because of my time here I will return more whole, more complete and more prepared for the next place.