I came to live here with my boyfriend our 6 year old son, 2 dogs and 4 cats. This home was quite a bit out of our price range but they were handing out home loans like candy at the time so we were able to get it without any problems. It's a cute 4 bedroom, craftsman style farmhouse built in 1928 on just over 3 acres. Located in a small country town that is home to a school, a post office, an auto repair shop, a general store, a tavern and a church.
We came here with dreams of a small junkyard, a brewing kitchen and a private dance club. A place to welcome friends and family, bar-b-cue on the deck and watch the sunset while the dogs run free. A property to pick apples for pie, keep bees for honey, harvest berries to make jam and grow lots pretty flowers. All to sell in a little stand by the road with an old coffee can to collect the money.
Funny thing life is, it has this way of not turning out like you planned. Things broke apart between my partner and I in less than a year of moving in. He left the house to me and left the state. I would have given it to him free and clear. All of those dreams I listed are great things, but I wasn't sure if they were actually what I wanted.
I asked one of my best friends to move in with me to help make the payments. She moved up from Seattle, practically on a moment's notice with her dog, cat, all her belongings, her huge heart and generous spirit. Together, we had a whole different set of dreams. We formed a band, invited boys over to drink with us and had lots of parties. We acquired a few more house and land mates and stayed up late, many a night in slap-happy giggle fits.
Then I met "him". He came along during all the fun we were having and things changed. My friend moved out of state and it was just me, him and my son living here. I was already on a huge drunken, guilt bender for the break up with my son's father. I felt terrible inside and found the perfect person to compliment all of my self hate. Needless to say, life got a lot worse. We had our own dreams together in this house but none of them worked out. He and I broke up after 2 years and he moved out of state.
After that it was much different. I was newly sober and pretty crazy. I held on to the house and all the dreams and fun I had ever had here. I made new dreams but most were just out of grasp. I was getting barely enough money from my job and ever changing room mates to pay the bills. Spending most of my spare time taking care of the house and property. It isn't much of a social life but I really do get a deep satisfaction out of fixing something on my home or eating some home grown vegetables for dinner while enjoying the view from my porch. The more care, maintenance, blood, sweat and tears I put into my home, the more I have grown to love it. The more it has become a part of my identity and solace.
The ongoing battle between my love for this home and my lack of ability to adequately care for it financially and physically, lead me to the decision to sell.
"What!? You're going to sell your house? But it's such an awesome place, I love your house!"
"You want to buy it?", I ask.
In all honesty I have not been "living the dream". The "dream" has been out of reach this entire time and that is exhausting. I haven't been able to live my dreams because I've been to busy trying to manage a dream big enough for four. And that was how I had to explain it to almost everyone I knew, when I told them I had decided to sell.
So all that said it makes perfect sense to sell my home, it's the right thing to do, the sensible and realistic thing to do. Reasonable, but not easy. I love it here! Any other place I have ever lived I was soooo ready to leave. "Get me outta here!" and "So long Stinktown!". I have never lived anywhere else in my life that I felt as safe, comfortable and truly at home as I have here. I love it here! This has been my home and that is not easy to leave.
One great comfort I get out of this sale is that the buyers love it too. They are really excited to live here and that makes me feel all warm inside. This house has been loved and well cared for its entire life, it shows in all the details. This family has a whole new set of dreams for this place and I really hope they get to actually live them, this home deserves that.
The fear I have is that I will never have another place that I can call my home again. That this is it. When I say good bye here, that it's the end of the line. It will always be someone else's home that I live in from now on. And I will never get to be totally comfortable in another house. I'm not sure why I feel this way, maybe because it took me 25 years to actually get here. Maybe not. But this belief is where my main difficulty lies. That's a tough thing for a girl like me. I have traveled far and wide to find a place to call home. I have many friends who go from one place to the next and they are just fine. I suppose I have always been waiting for the end result of home. Never quite making it were I am right now because it has to fit a certain criteria in order for me to call it "home". It may just be time to rethink my concept of "home". Although I'm not sure I'm ready to live by Tom Wait's philosophy "Anywhere I lay my head, I call my home".
I feel like I have lived about 5 different lives while in this house. And all the lessons that go along with living 5 lives. Those lessons are what I will really leave here with (those, some awesome memories and some really great friendships). I feel that is worth mentioning because when I reflect on my life here and how much I have changed and learned in such a short period of time, it blows my mind. I am a different person than who I was when I moved in here. I guess that's the point of this whole blog.
I have never been in this situation before in any way shape or form. I am a creature of habit and routine and find much comfort and safety in those. This is exciting and terrifying all at the same time. Terrifying because it is unknown. Exciting because the possibilities for my life from here are endless! I could relish in that for quite a while. And trust me, I do. Probably a little too much.
So now, my son and I will move on to a totally different life without a clearly defined path. Just a general direction and a temporary place to lay our heads at night. But isn't that all we really have anyway?
