Home Is Where My Heart Is

We started looking for a new house two years ago. 

It was fun, like a game!  Let’s see what’s wrong with THIS one!  We’d laugh and shake our heads at the way other people decorate.  “It’s just not us,” we’d say.  Glad to go home to our tiny happy place.

Three days ago, our bluff was called.  We went to an open house with a view that has been described in novels.  The decorating is exactly to my taste.  Everything has been redone and there’s nothing to do but move in.  The location is great, with enough room for all of us. 

We made an offer. I thought, “Don’t worry, someone will outbid us for sure.”  We had to try, but the odds were against us.

Two days later we got the text, “Great news!  They accepted your offer.  You got the house!”

My husband jumped up from the couch, “Oh wow!  This is great!”  He turned to give me a high five, but my head was in my hands, and I was already crying.

I wailed, “I just didn’t think we would actually get it.”  I was completely overcome with sadness.

I don’t know what I thought was going to happen.  We went to the open house.  We loved the home.  For goodness sake, we made an offer.

It’s like having unprotected sex in the back seat of a Mustang and being surprised you got pregnant. 

 1 + 1 = 2

I sobbed for hours.

“I don’t understand why you are so upset; we can pull the plug on this if you want to.” My husband was not expecting this kind of reaction from me and frankly, neither was I.

I didn’t know what I wanted; I just knew that this meant something much bigger than buying a new house.

Our old house is on Kilkare Street.  It’s the house we bought right after we got back together after a several-month marital separation.  It is where our broken family healed.  We bought it days after we reconciled – we looked at one house nine years ago, and bought it!

Kilkare turned out to be a hot mess with rotten joists, hidden water damage, and electrical and heating issues.  We fixed it up a little at a time and each time we thought we were done, another issue came up.  Much like our marriage.  But we put in the work. 

We planted flowers, painted birdhouses, and turned that house into a sweet little oasis.

But then we started to outgrow it. Two bedrooms and a loft were fun when our little boy liked to sleep in the loft upstairs and our two girls shared a bedroom.  But nine years later our 19-year-old boy doesn’t get much rest because his bedroom is open to the kitchen, and he has a dad who likes to make pancakes at 5 a.m.

I really hadn’t thought this through when we started looking. I knew we needed more space, but this also meant I had to pack up my dishes and lock the door of the house I had so loved for nine years.  

It meant leaving so many memories behind.

My home has been like a living being in my life.  It “speaks” to me.   

Kilkare and I have had many conversations. 

“Thank you for pulling the weeds, I feel so much better now.”

“This paint color really reflects my true beauty.”

“Welcome home, I stood here holding onto your dear possessions while you were gone.

“Wow, it’s really raining,” I’d think.

“Yes, it certainly is.  But my windows were dirty.”

I learned the term Wabi Sabi because of Kilkare.  That house doesn’t want to entertain my perfectionism.  It wants to be just a little wonky everywhere.  Just months after the warranty ran out, a floorboard warped in the middle of the family room, a big scratch appeared on the new dishwasher weeks after I bought it, and a cabinet door that just won’t line up exactly right no matter how many times it is adjusted.  Every project had something just a little not right about it.

Kilkare was my teacher.

“Love me for what I am, not what you want me to be.”

“Rest your head, put down your worries, I am here.”

I sobbed for hours.  How will I let go of Kilkare?

Is she ready to let go of me?    

Maybe, like me, she has been hoping for a new adventure with different people who will give her another life… a new family to cover and hold and welcome home.

After lots of talking and a few more tears, we’ve decided to move ahead with the purchase.

In a few weeks, I will walk into my new house, shiny key in hand.  I will sit on her floor, close my eyes, and introduce myself.

And another love affair will begin.

**Update: The day before we closed on the new house, there was a flood that was caused by a building error that the inspection failed to uncover. We backed out of the deal.