>Home is where the heart is


Just a mere 4 days after the bomb was dropped on us that our house was going on the market, (we expected to at LEAST finish out our 3rd year here, if not a 4th and 5th year while we were at it,) we have looked at 3 different properties; e-mailed, called about and/or spoken to multiple people about various others; have appointments to see 3 more properties; and I submitted an application today to rent a house I looked at this morning (approval pending.)

Jeffrey and I are nothing if not go-getters.

Although I am still reeling from and deeply saddened by the reality that our time at our current home is coming to such an abrupt and foreshortened end, I am also quite pragmatic and accept things the way they are despite wishing otherwise: our house is being sold, we cannot live there any more, and we must find a new place to live. And so that is what I have invested every iota of energy in and amount of attention towards finding.

In understanding why this would be so emotional for me, you must understand that there are 3 things that matter to me above all other things: my husband, my friends and my home.

When we move into a house, we do not merely place our things into it; we adapt it to our tastes, need and lifestyle. We bond with it, pour love into it, and possess it in such a way that it becomes part of us. When you step into our home, you know you are in OUR home, and, despite loving many places we have lived in the past, for many reasons, this latest space has been more our home than any other. We have had the most amazing moments here and built memories from fantastic parties, special beloved guests, landmark life moments, gut wrenching pain (both emotional and physical) and hoped it would be, at the very least, the last home to which our aging dog would ever have to get acquainted. On a practical level, we were hoping not to have to change addresses again any time soon, box up our belongings or waste a month of our precious time and copious amounts of coinage packing up our life in one spot and unpacking it in another.

Yes, if we owned a home, or could buy this one, this could all be avoided. But we don’t and can’t and so, for now, that is a moot point and argument.

The hardest thing for me to grasp is that we will not get to spend another summer in our amazing yard by the fabulous pool with our pretty men-friends rushing about in their suits or, better yet, in nothing, splashing and frolicking and playing. No more late night skinny dipping parties. No big holiday parties or gatherings. No more croquette, badminton or volleyball games. No more cook outs under the stars or in the summer breeze. This is definitely an end of an era, and a lifestyle we may not see again for quite sometime, if ever.

Yes, we will still see our friends and have guests and enjoy laughter and dinner and cocktails in whatever new space we find, but this space, this home, was part of what made it all so amazing. and allowed us to do it on a larger scale than ever before. It had a life of its own and managed to make everyone feel welcome and safe and happy. It breathed extra life into every moment and event. It filled us with joy every time we returned to it and made even my worst moments more tolerable when experienced cradled in its warm embrace. It was truly more than a house, it was a home – our home – and for lack of the financial means to hold on to it – it will be no more.

Money may not be able to buy happiness, but it sure could have bought a home that helped provide it for us.


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