Our lovely home is no longer ours. Or so that's what they say. We signed a few papers, mailed them in, and just like that, it was over.
When the Title company e-mailed me to tell me the buyers had officially closed on our house, it was bittersweet. I was relieved it was over, but mostly saddened at the thought of strangers living in my home. There were no tears though. In matters relating to our home, I have been very brave.
When the for sale sign went up, my mom asked how I was doing. I told her I had already moved through my stages of grief.
First, shock and denial at what was happening around the country. As in, "my house is worth HOW MUCH LESS than what I paid??!!" I was positive it would turn around. It HAD to turn around.....didn't it?
Then guilt. Mike didn't even want to buy a house. He liked our house, but he just wanted a little apartment across the street from the school. That wasn't the plan. That wasn't MY plan. We had worked. Hard. Really Hard. And we had saved. Saved a lot......And the market was starting to boom. I KNEW it would be a great investment. I just knew it. And......I was wrong. Boy was I wrong. And all the money we worked so hard for was gone. It was all my fault. Because Mike didn't even want to buy a house.
Then I was Angry. Angry at what was happening to us. We had no control over it. It certainly wasn't what I would call an "equitable situation." And Mike and I had completely different views on what should be done. I was angry about that too.
Then Despair. I felt hopeless and sad at what this would mean for our family and our future. Our options were bleak, at best.
But then, a bit of an upturn. I started reading, learning, investigating, and searching for answers. And finally, after several weeks of frank discussions with my husband, real estate experts, and friends and family, we had a plan.
And then there was Acceptance.
Everything went as smoothly as I believe is possible in the selling of a home in the 2nd worst real estate market in the country. Within two weeks we had multiple offers. And so we packed up our home to move across the country. And when I walked through my beloved abode for the last time, I was sentimental, sure. I will admit my eyes flooded with the salty warmth that is so familiar to them. But I refused to let those tears fall. I had accepted it. And it was time to move on.
It took another month to reconcile the details with the bank. I should say, we filled out a form and sent in some paper work, and it took them a month to process it. Then just like that it was over. I felt heavy hearted, but there were no tears. We were one of the lucky ones. And I was relieved.
You see, no tears = brave in my book. (Because those dang tears flow so easily for me.) So I HAVE been brave.
.....at least until today.
I stumbled across this unassuming picture in my computer.
When the for sale sign went up, my mom asked how I was doing. I told her I had already moved through my stages of grief.
First, shock and denial at what was happening around the country. As in, "my house is worth HOW MUCH LESS than what I paid??!!" I was positive it would turn around. It HAD to turn around.....didn't it?
Then guilt. Mike didn't even want to buy a house. He liked our house, but he just wanted a little apartment across the street from the school. That wasn't the plan. That wasn't MY plan. We had worked. Hard. Really Hard. And we had saved. Saved a lot......And the market was starting to boom. I KNEW it would be a great investment. I just knew it. And......I was wrong. Boy was I wrong. And all the money we worked so hard for was gone. It was all my fault. Because Mike didn't even want to buy a house.
Then I was Angry. Angry at what was happening to us. We had no control over it. It certainly wasn't what I would call an "equitable situation." And Mike and I had completely different views on what should be done. I was angry about that too.
Then Despair. I felt hopeless and sad at what this would mean for our family and our future. Our options were bleak, at best.
But then, a bit of an upturn. I started reading, learning, investigating, and searching for answers. And finally, after several weeks of frank discussions with my husband, real estate experts, and friends and family, we had a plan.
And then there was Acceptance.
Everything went as smoothly as I believe is possible in the selling of a home in the 2nd worst real estate market in the country. Within two weeks we had multiple offers. And so we packed up our home to move across the country. And when I walked through my beloved abode for the last time, I was sentimental, sure. I will admit my eyes flooded with the salty warmth that is so familiar to them. But I refused to let those tears fall. I had accepted it. And it was time to move on.
It took another month to reconcile the details with the bank. I should say, we filled out a form and sent in some paper work, and it took them a month to process it. Then just like that it was over. I felt heavy hearted, but there were no tears. We were one of the lucky ones. And I was relieved.
You see, no tears = brave in my book. (Because those dang tears flow so easily for me.) So I HAVE been brave.
.....at least until today.
I stumbled across this unassuming picture in my computer.
And just as quickly as our house was gone, my emotional flood gates were opened.
I remembered the day we moved in. Our excitement permeated every crack and crevice.
And I remembered re-painting the kitchen 3 times until I had the perfect shade of green.
And the sweat and blood that stained the paver stones we used when we built the back patio ourselves.
We built our patio, we built our marriage, and we built a family.
We grew up there. And we grew together.
When we brought our baby home we placed him in his nursery with the yellow walls. Those same walls, months earlier, were littered with hundreds of paint samples. I searched for weeks for the perfect hue.
There were tears of joy, and tears of sorrow, sleepless nights, and the best moments of my life thus far.
That picture was symbolic of all those things and more. It was a symbol to me of all the joy and laughter we shared within our walls. Those priceless every day moments I was lucky enough to capture and freeze in time.
The tears I cry now are not from grief. There's no need for me to travel those stages. (again) I cry because I feel so honored and blessed to have experienced the things I did there. I will miss my home terribly. But I look ahead another four years and am excited to see what surprises will await us here in Michigan. In our new home.
If the future is as good as the past, I have a lot to be excited about.
If the future is as good as the past, I have a lot to be excited about.