Sunday, January 28, 2018

Home is not a place... It's a feeling

I hung pictures in the rental house yesterday.  It made me sad.  The pictures have been packed away in boxes since we moved.  Actually, they have been in boxes a lot longer than just before we moved.  I took them down because we were remodeling the house and they stayed there because I knew that we were going to move.

I hoped that we would be moving to the farm house that we are going to build.  When we decided to move to a rental to get out of our own way so we could finish the remodel,  I was scared and excited.  It's a huge commitment, not to mention the amount of money involved in renting a house and still paying a mortgage.  We reasoned that we would be able to finish the remodel and sell more quickly if we weren't living there.   We thought that we would have closed on the farm land by now.  We thought we would be done with the remodel by now.  Life often happens, and laughs in our face at what we thought.  This month marks the 1 year anniversary of when we put an offer on that land, and 5 months since we moved into the rental.

I didn't hang any pictures because I thought... What's the point?  We are just going to be taking them down again once we close on the land.  So they sat, in boxes, in the living room.  We used the boxes for end tables, a catch all place for stuff we hadn't figured out where to put just yet.  We used them to keep stuff off the floor and away from the dogs, but they were never hung.

Our closing became more complicated when the owner of the property passed away.  Over the last year, we have become acquainted with the owners wife.  She has been taking care of her husband, who suffered from Alzheimer's since we met her.  She probably thought, like we did, that once she found a buyer the land would close.  Yet, because of the numerous complications the title company found and needed more time to sort out, her husband passed away.  Since this sweet woman was not on the deed, she can not sell us the property until it goes through probate.  We are told by her lawyer that it could take up to 9 months to sort out.

When you think things are bad, when you feel sour and blue,
when you start to get mad... you should do what I do!
Just tell yourself, Duckie, you're really quite lucky!
Some people are much more... oh, ever so much more...
oh, muchly much-much more unlucky than you! -Dr. Seuss
So, I'm sad.  Sad that we can't be where I know that we belong.  Sad that this woman has to go through this process while grieving for her husband.  Sad that I am hanging pictures in a house that is not ours.

I haven't finished completely.  I am still figuring out where I want to put everything.  As sad as I am about the situation, I am glad that I did it.  The house feels more like a home now.  It is a subtle difference that I am not sure you would notice right away. Just having family pictures hung on the wall brings warmth, love, and belonging, at least that is how I felt when I was finished the wall I started.