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We handed our old place back to HDB this morning. It was, as expected, a fairly undramatic event. Or did it feel undramatic only because our minds and senses were already clouded with memories?

We were there slightly before 10.30am, the appointed time. There was just enough time to open some windows and let a final breeze through, before Letterman came striding in. He turned out to be a really pleasant chap (I won't be surprised if he's received extensive training on how to deal with both technical and emotional aspects of the job). He chatted with us about plans for the estate, and how designs of HDB flats have changed over the years.

When he mentioned that it's very possible these old flats would be turned into rental housing, I saw protest flash in Finance Minister's eyes. She turned to me and said, "Someone else is going to stay in our nice house..." Yes, it was sad. Perhaps it would be easier to swallow if the near-term plans were to tear the whole place down... Maybe we should just visit and make friends with the new occupants ;-)

I liked Letterman because he was a good sport - he gave me time to take pictures, and even advised me on which shots to capture. He clearly knows his stuff :-)

While Letterman was busy getting the documents in order, Finance Minister & I walked round the house again. It's quite overwhelming, when one does stop to think about it. There are so many memories in this house. As we went into each room, Finance Minister relived some of those memories, and her eyes glistened. As she recounted some of those events, I too saw them come to life - and for a brief moment, heard and saw them happening all over again. If the walls could speak!

Jumped and hit the low ceiling for the last time after 31 years! :-p

 A house isn't really just a house after all. Our old place is a symbol of the journeys we have taken - as individuals, and also as a family. Within its walls we have celebrated victories, mourned losses, uncovered surprises, dealt with shocks, fought bitterly with each other, attempted to make up, grieved over death, rejoiced in life, suffered rejection, received affirmation, learned to take up and to put aside. From one room to the next, the blueprint of our old place represents routines that have been our rhythms for over 3 decades. In different seasons of our lives, our old place has taken on different hues and moods too - and we have pictures through the years to prove it! :-)  

Saying goodbye to our old place was therefore like leaving part of ourselves behind. I had a sense that things will never be the same - yet also that some things will not change. What a curious mix of sadness and expectation!

Finance Minister stood for a long time at the gate of our old place. With a big sigh, she bid our old place farewell. We turned and left, not seeing Letterman lock up (he still had to inspect the place further). Well, one can be thankful for the little mercy of not witnessing the place being locked up!

"We'll never walk down these stairs again..." "Sure we can, I'll come back with you and we walk down these stairs as many times as you like..." "Yah, but it's not the same - we can't go into the house... And see, we don't have this nice open void deck anymore..." "Ok lah, we come back and hang out at this void deck, ok?..." "Like what, have a picnic on the floor?!..." "Can, can. You want, we can buy kopi, sit here and kyeow kah like Ah Seng, also can..."

Some things will not change. Nonsensical conversations, for one :-)