17 days left

In 17 days, I will be living somewhere else. Where, I have no idea...
maybe a small house not far from here. But in 17 days this house
will belong to someone else. It's not what I would choose, but sometimes
we don't have a choice, and this is one of those times.
They came by yesterday for an inspection, I spied on them. Then later
I came back and sat at my desk and felt comfortable in a place
where I belonged. But in 17 days I won't belong here.
I went into the garage and imagined those people seeing my stuff in
there today, I'm sure they looked everywhere...I wonder if
they saw my dad's old toolbox and thought that it was mine, we have
the same name...I kind of hope that they thought it WAS mine,
because then it would carry a certain respect....The myriad of
tools in there would impress them, I think. But that's only because
in the garage I feel my dad's echo....I feel him everywhere really,
but especially when I'm near that toolbox (if that makes sense).
I know they must have seen that picture of me and Ron, and said,
"oh, so that's him...."
So then I wandered from room to room, imagining if I were those
buyers, and seeing what they had seen...like the picture of me and
Jason Giambi in the kitchen, and Catfish Hunter, and the old one of my
grandpa....and all the baseball park pictures here in this room...I
wonder if they think that I was a good guy, who was a good steward
to this house...I hope they do....
Well, all those pics in this room will have to come down soon, like
tomorrow I guess, and this will be the end of a certain era,
especially in this room. I would like to think that I was a good
steward to this house.
It is a good house...sometimes I apologize to it, like I should
have taken better care of it, or at least have stayed longer...and
it always seems to reply, "hey, it's okay"
17 days left.