Leaving 80 Roebling Street, Apt 3

We are moving. It's exciting and sad too. We found a buyer who more or less met our price and now it's time for us to find a new apartment. Nate will likely not remember this apartment (I have no memories of my first 2 years in Kew Gardens before moving to Dix Hills). He wont remember the bay window overlooking Roebling Street and the Artist in Residence Building across the Street. He wont remember the sun streaming in through the living room shades in the morning. He wont remember the loose floor boards near his room or the bedroom near the bathroom or the refrigerator with 3 small dents in the front door. He wont remember his multi-colored letters and numbers magnets stuck on the back of the front door or the herbs (rosemary, thyme, parsley, basil, chives) growing on the balcony overlooking the back patios and buildings of North 7th and North 8th Streets. He wont remember watering the plants although he took pleasure in doing so (Mama! Mama! Look! Wa-wa! Plants!). He wont remember his blue room with my old tennis racket hanging on one wall and the blue dog Simma Liebman painting hanging over his crib. He won't remember rolling his match box cars towards the front door, one after the other. He wont remember his special little nook to the left of the refrigerator under the cabinet of spices, where Nate would go to "hide". He wont remember crab-crawling then running down the hallway, past the bathroom, past his room, making a quick right past the brown chest of drawers, past the 2 white thin linen cabinets, into the master bedroom, to the bed in a room painted goldish. Nate wont remember his neighbors (Natasha and Lee upstairs, Bonnie and Annabelle (A-bell) in Unit 2, and Matt (Maaa), Stephanie and Elle (A-bell on the first floor), who adored him. But we will.