Keys

I am down to two keys.

The key to the my husband's house -- he owned it long before I came along -- which since our wedding has become the key to our house. Small and silver, with a rounded head and pointy teeth. And the key to my trusty, green Beetle. A black plastic rectangle with a VW logo and a silver button that releases a narrow grooved bar that slides into the ignition.

Two keys. My keychain feels so empty. And so light.
I feel naked.

I sold the first and only house I've ever owned a few weeks ago. It became official somewhere between 5 and 6:00 p.m. on February 7, as I signed my name -- the married version -- on multiple sheets of paper. When all was said and done, I removed the keys to the house from my keychain, two for the front door and one for the back, and handed them across the table. But it wasn't until I went to leave the house the next morning that I noticed the emptiness.

I used to have a second keychain on its own lanyard for my school keys. The one that opened the English office, the ones to my various classrooms, the one to the faculty bathrooms. The lanyard hung around my neck while I was at work and hung around the stick shift of my Beetle at night. I turned those keys in last June when I decided to hang up my teacher hat and try my hand at writing. I don't need any keys for that, except the ones that I use to type.

So here I am. Stripped down to the bare necessities. And perhaps that's cause for celebration. No more drives down the interstate just to water the plants and check on the house. No more worries about the mess in the neighbor's backyard or the two defunct cars in front of her house or the rain overflowing from her mulberry-clogged gutters down the hill to my basement windows.

Instead, my husband and I get to search for new keys. The ones to the house that we will buy together when the right place comes along.

But for now, I'll just enjoy travelling light.


Note: Neither spellcheck nor Dictionary.com recognize the word "keychain" as one word, despite the gaggle of advertisers who do. I decided I liked it better as one word myself...