We got the keys on 18 August.
We moved in on 23 September.
Five weeks in between.
On paper, that looks short. It didn't feel short. The interiors were still being worked on. There were things to fix. Things to buy. Things we hadn't even thought about yet.
Now the house is almost set up.
Not finished. Almost.
I used to think the keys would be the ending. You sign the papers. Someone hands you a set of keys. You take a few photos. Done.
It wasn't the ending.
Moving in wasn't quite the ending either.
What's left is smaller than the last two years, and somehow easier to keep postponing. The last things that don't have a place yet. A corner that still looks like a project. The habit of walking in and checking what's unfinished, instead of just coming home.
I don't know when that stops.
Maybe when the last empty spot gets decided. Maybe when we stop noticing what's left. Maybe on an ordinary evening, when we come back and the only thought is that this is where we live.
No more possession date. No more site visit.
Just enough ordinary days that "almost" turns into home.
That's the part I'm looking forward to.