Dreams do come true.

For the past 25 years, my parents have talked of retiring and moving Up North to a house on a lake. Their wooded lot sat vacant for decades, a ramshackle surveyor's shack disintegrating into the overgrown weeds and brush.

And now that my mom's retired, their dream is about to become a reality. They cleared the lot and built the house, a beautiful 3-bedroom with a wrap-around porch and views of the lake. My step dad, a retired carpenter, built much of it himself, pouring the foundation, building the deck and garage and completing much of the finishing work with his own two hands.

When I asked if he was building a master workshop Up North, he said no -- that his days of carpentry were over. He'd have no need for all of his tools after the move.

I find it wonderfully poetic that his last construction job wasn't for someone else, but for his retirement home. It's as if his whole 40-year-plus career in the trades led him to this final project -- the home of his dreams.

And so they've emptied 35+ year's worth of memories, mementos and, in some cases junk, from the house where I spent much of my childhood. My parents put in long hours sorting through old sporting gear, yearbooks and housewares, clearing the way for the new owners.

Over the past few months, they've erased the traces of our lives there to create a clean slate for a new family who, I hope, has kids who will spend long summers floating in the pool and playing hide-and-seek in the basement.

Tonight, on my last walk through, I was tempted to leave a note tucked in the closet of my old bedroom, saying, "In the spring, those lilacs just outside the window fill this room with the most wonderful smell. Enjoy it."

Tomorrow is the closing where they'll turn over the keys and (just maybe) a list of notes:

• Use the twine on the porch to coax the morning glories to climb the wrought-iron trellis.
• The combination on the safe is a little temperamental -- you have to turn it just so.
• Don't forget to keep the pool covered or else bark and leaves will get stuck in the filter.
• Be careful of an icy spot that always forms down the middle of the driveway in the winter. one of us slipped and broke an arm there once.
• Don't take the riding mower on the big hill in the back or you'll roll it.

And after all is said and done, they'll get in their red pick-up and drive north.

I never thought their move -- a move I've known about since I was twelve -- would make me feel emotional, but it has. That house is where I spent my teen years. I took prom pictures in front of the fireplace. I played Capture the Flag in that neighborhood and did cartwheels in the yard. And, after having lived on my own for 10+ years, after my divorce, I returned to that house, a refugee with three kids in tow, to regroup, recharge and start anew.

But any sadness or nostalgia for that house is overshadowed by sheer elation that my parents will finally get to make their retirement dream come true. They worked hard. They scrimped and saved and together raised five kids into responsible, tax-paying, law-abiding citizens. (Not a small feat, if you ask me.)

They deserve this. They deserve this exciting new future with a blank slate of their own.

Congratulations M & A. I'm so very happy for you.