Home Sweet Home?

I've had this entry rolling around in my head the last couple days, but just don't know how to start it.
I love my house. I really do. It just doesn't feel like home, yet.
The people who lived here before us, lived here 34 years. They raised their family here. The neighbors have all been here equally as long, with the exception of one set, who has been here ten years.
We knew that the previous owners may be staying in town, and it felt weird. In the back of my head I pictured them driving by, criticizing everything we may do to the house. Always thinking of it as theirs.
And really, I don't blame them. I feel like my childhood house is my house, still. Even though I haven't lived there in a very long time. So for them to always think of this as their house..I get it. I just don't want to know about it.
We heard from the neighbors that the POs (previous owners) were staying with their son in Texas. Most likely moving there. What a relief.
And then it happened.
The day before Nannie went in the hospital, there was a knock on the door.
I answered it and was greeted by Julie.
Julie is the daughter who grew up here.
She was in the neighborhood and brought the keys by.
Only it was really weird.
She told me all about how her mom didn't want to move, and they never expected the house to close.
She then told me that her parents were now homeless because it all happened so fast.
She confirmed my thoughts when she let me know that she and her parents drive by often.
Now, is it my problem that they are homeless? Homeless meaning they haven't decided where to live, because it is my understanding that they are pretty loaded.
Is it my problem that Mrs. PO didn't want to move?
I mean, really, if you don't want to move, why put your house on the market?
AND, they could have not accepted our offer if they truly didn't want to move. Or if they truly felt like we took them to the cleaners.
It is frustrating to me to know this.
And it doesn't help that I feel like all the neighbors are watching us and reporting back to them. I mean, that's how it would be if we left somewhere after being there for so long. I get it. But like I said, I don't want to know about it.
Then, like a slap in the face, their mail started being delivered here again. Like they only temporarily had it forwarded. I've taken it to the neighbors, who have them come pick it up. Again, so weird.
Last night, I met the girl across the street. She has a two year old daughter. She and her husband moved in recently to care for her grandmother. She never lived here till then, just her grandparents. It's good to have at least one person who I don't feel is watching every move we make.
And it's all nonsense...people have been so nice to us. I just feel like we are house sitting, with our furniture, trying to fit in where we don't belong.
How long do you think this will last??