Fair well, Armington Street

Kristen Carbone
3 min readDec 27, 2022

Home is where one starts from. — TS Eliot

I wrote about this house when we came back to it early in the pandemic. As most homecomings, it was wonderfully nostalgic, a smidge uncanny and perhaps a little bit of a bad idea. But we did it. We have lived here on Armington street for a total of 112 months. Some of those were better than others but I think it was exactly the right mix of joyful and painful. The walls of this house hold some of the most important memories of my life — my children growing up, my friendships, my lovers, my becoming. And I only have a few more days of being cradled in this familiarity.

It’s 5:30am and I’m taking in the darkness of my bedroom, the gentle clicking of the heat, and the shapes of the bare trees outside my window. I can see Jupiter twinkling above a set of branches where I’m quite positive the letters of my name are spelled out in the negative space between them. I will miss this view.

I’m waiting to watch the sun rise over Narragansett Bay and flood the east-facing windows with a familiar, honey-colored glow. The early morning light in this kitchen is simply magical.

The space here has changed dramatically over time but the floor and the morning light are the same. I love them both. I spend a lot of time laying on the floor because, well, it’s literally grounding.

Leaving now is important. A page turned a while ago and I was feeling a little (maybe a lot) stuck. To continue the metaphor, I’ve been the blank half-page after a shitty paragraph at the end of a rather predictable and mundane chapter. What’s next though?

For physical walls, the next thing is a little three bedroom bungalow with green asbestos siding and a charming porch with a swing across town. It’s all potential and no memory. The light is excellent (expect for in the kitchen, which is my only complaint other than the price) for growing things; plants and children and, frankly, me. We all have some growing to do.

Saying goodbye to Armington Street feels good and right, which is so much better than I can say about the last time we left. And when I reflect back on all of the people who’ve come and gone, I think departing has always happened at just the right moment. I’m trusting that this is my moment and that what’s coming next is exactly what’s meant to be.



Kristen Carbone

Just trying to understand the tiny space I occupy in the cosmos without becoming too distracted by the laundry.