The following is a narrative from 2014 about our then-impending home sale and move back to the city. I am finally at a place where I can begin to publicly share the emotional rollercoaster that changed our lives for the better, albeit unbeknownst to us at the time. More posts on our moving adventure to come.
“People are always telling you that change is a good thing. But all they’re really saying is that something you didn’t want to happen at all…..has happened. [We have sold our home. The only home our children have ever known,] did I ever tell you that? It’s a lovely [home], and in a week it will be something really depressing…[someone else’s home]……….Soon, it’ll just be a memory……….But the truth is… I’m heartbroken. I feel as if a part of me has died, and [all our dreams as a family have been squashed until numb], and no one can ever make it right.”
Sometimes it is hard to find the right way to describe excitement and heartbreak in the same breath. When exploring my complex and often contradicting emotions about our move, the only thing that came to mind was the above abridged quote from You’ve Got Mail when Kathleen Kelly is forced by economics to sell the bookstore her mother started.
Our home was intended to be a ten-year-or-more plan. However, things started to become very clear while I was pregnant with C (2nd year in the home) that our longevity per plan was on the lower end. The drive to work, cost of daycare and time spent away from home versus actually at home were all brutal. Hello?! I was driving 45 minutes just to take C to school and then turn around to drive another 45 minutes back home. Twice a day to boot.
Looking back, maybe we should have sold right before the bubble burst, about nine months after C was born. It would have saved us the headache and heartbreak of losing our shorts at the ten-year mark.
I am not bitter. Really, I’m not. I just have a teeny, tiny, minute amount of emotional irk and that’s all. I know that every time I take the kids to school in 10 minutes or less, it has all been worth it.
So long humble dwelling. Farewell dear home. You were good to us for 10 long years and always felt like home each and every time we walked in the door. Your walls heard all and absorbed the happiness and sorrow of all five of us. Thank you for keeping us safe, warm (& cool), and dry every day we inhabited your structure. Goodbye home sweet home.