The Haunted Lakehouse

The chandelier danced without a single breeze. Lights flickered endlessly. Footsteps often came audibly, without a soul around. Strange voices were heard in the night, not much louder than a whisper. Dreams of withered entities standing by our bedside, only to wake and they were real! This is what we’ve endured, night in night out, at our house by the lake.

Okay, none of that actually happened but nonetheless, I’m so glad we are closing this chapter of our lives in one Sylvan Lake. This house can burn to the ground, for all I care!

Okay, I don’t wish fire/arson on anyone. It’s not cool. It’s more so hot… burning hot. Where was I…

The first year and a half of our married lives have been challenging, one might say. One might also say we brought a lot of it on ourselves and have healed and grown since but still, we look at our time spent in Sylvan as a general bummer.

Weird, right? I spoke to someone the other day and he was beside himself in wonderment that I would prefer to make the move to Calgary as opposed to continue residing in beautiful Sylvan Lake.

I have great childhood memories of this place. The weekend summer visits. The sun. The ice cream. The lake. The tiny teeny beach. And the sun. Heck, I used to bring my kids when they were uber young to the lake they call Sylvan. Ah, those sweet, summery moments, etched deep in all our psyches.

In a little over two weeks, after spending eighteen months living here, we break on outta here and cruise down the road to Cowtown aka Calgary, as it were and I couldn’t be more tickled.

Sure, I believe it to be true.. you can’t just move and leave behind who you are or what you’ve done. You’re you, no matter where you hang your hat. I get that. However, there is a difference in blindly hoping to be free of certain things via a move, and diligently planning and making the appropriate mental and physical changes necessary in finding a new-found freedom in our new destination location. Makes sense in my own head, at any bloody rate.

So then it shall be done. I told my wife the other day that we are going to write out all the negativity and bad choices we made in this year point five span and then we’re gonna burn it! Seriously. We’re going to give the middle finger to the past, in a positive, affirming way of course.

And when this door is shut and locked behind us one final time, I won’t need to neither light a match or even turn around to blow a sweet kiss. Who I am comes with me and the past will be as it should be: dead and rotting.

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