I dont wanna grow up

In June of this year my mother retired after 6 years with a company we both enjoyed working for. I had already been there for about 7 years before she came to work there. My dad had already retired about a year prior to my mom and they had already put an offer on a house just a little over 250 miles south in what is called Utah's Dixie. It gets this name as it is the retirement city of choice for many Utahans and Idahoans.
We helped my parents move in June which was no small task as they are, and have been for thirty years, pack rats. There was just so much stuff...
But we got them moved, with the help of my sister and her kids too. And it was a nice time to spend a week with the family. My sister got really emotional when she got back home, It didn't really hit me like that.

Since June, my parents have had their house up for sale. The market is tight right now. Just after we moved them out, I came back home and being as I was the child nearest to their house, began cleaning out the few piles of things to be thrown out that we hadn't had time to get to while packing and moving. so for about 2 weeks, i cleared out trash, kept up the yard, and cleaned. You know- for living there for 30 years, that house looks pristine.

But the house still sat. For sale. With not even a nibble. We decided that because the house also had not been painted (interior) for the 30 years we had lived there, it was time. So, with the help of my best friend, and on one occasion my cousins and my aunt, we painted the entire 2000 sq ft interior. Still it sits.

Well here we are the third week of September, nearly 3 months after moving them out, and they think they may have sold the house. They have an offer- it is about $20,000 less than they hoped, but it is not on the market costing them mortgage payments. They will now be able to pay off their retirement home with just a little bit still owing and relax.

Thing is, now I am feeling emotional. This was my home from the age of 8 until I married at 18 and moved out. So many memories in that house. I guess as long as I still had a key and was venturing over weekly to water and mow and check on the property, it was still my house. Still mine to run back to when I needed my parents. Now, it will be someone else's memory making abode. No more waving to the neighbors who have lived there as long as we have, no more driving up that same street above the trailer sales company once belonging to my uncle Jim, which is now a boat store. There will be no reason to go into that neighborhood anymore.

"sigh"

I am never going to be good with change.