My heart is very heavy today. Yesterday I taught my final three yoga classes, and today I trained a client at the Y for the last time and taught my last class at Twin Lakes. I've managed not to let my guard completely down and begin weeping, but it will come later.
As much as I'm ready to go ahead and start our new lives together in Mt. Airy, it is so painful to leave friends and students behind. As we all know, no matter the promises to keep in touch and visit, we rarely do. Facebook makes things a little easier to stay somewhat connected, but it's not the same. It's on to making new friends, finding a new church family, starting a new business.
I remember feeling exactly like this when we moved from Cary. As much as Burlington frustrates me with its conservative attitudes, I'm not nearly as itchy to get out of Burlington as I was to leave Cary. But even then, I remember grieving for quite a while over my lost classes and clients. I really didn't work hard at developing friendships there, so it was more of a professional loss than a personal loss, but as what I do is so very personal, it was kind of the same.
Along those lines, I have to say that if I start really thinking about the people I'm leaving behind, I'll fall into a snotty cry-fest. There is not a better bunch of people in the world than my yoga students, both at church and at Elon. Watching them become stronger and more confident in their practice has been a thrill for me, and I am humbled that I have been allowed to be a part of their yoga journeys. I have been blessed with a group of friends who are smart and funny and strong and have become like sisters to me. I have laughed more here in Burlington than at any other time in my adult life, hanging with my peeps. I will miss those birthday dinners! My church family is this great big wacky family of individuals who band together and support each other through thick and thin. Back when the room mothers and PTA dictators at Oren's first school refused to give me the time of day, our church welcomed me as a partner with open arms and were happy to see me and my family walk through the doors. Our church convinced me to give the infamous West Burlington crowd a chance, and for that I'll be forever grateful.
I am happy to report that Oren's new school feels in some ways like our church here, open-hearted and gracious, happy to see us. That will be a big change, and I look forward to watching Oren blossom in a smaller school. Having grown up in a town of less than 300 people, I'm looking forward to a smaller town. And we're all excited to be in a town that is so close to the mountains and lots of recreational opportunities.
We still have to find a house to buy, but starting next Tuesday we'll have a rental house for Rick to start enjoying during the week and all of us, including the monster kitties and stinky pup, to start enjoying in mid-June.
But for now, I'm wallowing a bit in my sadness. This afternoon, I'll pack up my blankets, straps, blocks, and mats, to be put away until I can begin new classes. There may be some tears, and there will be some lonely moments, but I have a strong feeling that this will end up being a fabulous change not only for me, but for our family as a whole.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
Falling in love
Our house sold, start to finish, in 36 days. Unheard of in this market, I know, and yes, we HAVE thought that maybe we should have asked for more money, BUT I'd rather have sold it and wonder if we charged enough than be sitting on it for months and wondering if we asked too much.
So the hard part has turned out to be the easy part. We sold our house, we moved everything out (only one storage unit this time as opposed to five the last time we moved!), and we're officially not homeowners right now.
So now what is supposed to be the fun part, the easier part, has turned into the hard part. We cannot find a house to buy. We made an offer on a spectacular house, one I still hope we will get, but the owners had to take it off the market due to some challenges, so we had to start over. The day we saw that house, I walked in and fell in love. Actually, that's not true. I saw it online and fell in love, much like our house here in Burlington. I could imagine us having Christmas dinner there, eating breakfast in the kitchen, sitting on the front porch. I still can, which is why I haven't let go of the dream quite yet.
But we do need to find a house to buy, and since the earliest this house will be back on the market, if it ever does go back on, will be September, we are still looking. But we are very limited in terms of where we want to buy, and what type of house we like, which makes it tough in a town of 10,000 people where the housing inventory is, well, nearly nil. We drove up to Mt. Airy yesterday to look at what online appeared to be very much like our house here, but brick and with a full front porch.
The house itself was about 80% there as far as the way it looked and felt. Great floors (all pine, which we know from experience is not ideal), high ceilings, plaster walls (I would have to install picture rail moldings, but I love those), a good-sized kitchen (without a dishwasher or disposal, in need of lots of updating), nice yard, five bedrooms, odd baths (a corner shower was installed in the middle of the floor of the upstairs bath), nearly non-existent closets (but a full basement). Lots to love, lots to work with, but there was this feel in the neighborhood, not helped at all by the snarling dogs next door, their fence butting right up to the property line, which was just a driveway's distance from the house on that side.
Rick and I talked a lot about it on the way home, and we agreed that house hunting is a lot like dating. You go out on a date, and the guy is nice-looking, polite, confident, pulls your chair out for you, laughs at your jokes, doesn't smell, but there is just something that bothers you about him. You sit and eat and talk, and the whole time you're thinking, "What is it?" There isn't anything obviously wrong, but you just feel a little bit antsy. When he takes you home, you hope that he won't try to kiss you.
And then you go out with someone else, but this time, you think he's gorgeous despite the fact that his teeth aren't perfect, you pray that he'll kiss you even with that weird moustache, and you find it charming that he seems nervous. You just don't care. You notice, but you don't care, because when you're sitting across from him during dinner, you just know that there is something special, something that just feels right. On paper he might not be up to par with the date you had last weekend, but in your heart it's a whole different story.
And that's how it is to buy a house. Yes, the walls are smooth and the kitchen is updated, yes the bathroom is nice and the basement is dry, but if there's no spark, if you can't envision yourself around the table playing Scrabble on a windy winter night, it just isn't the house for you, resale value and square footage be damned.
When you find the right house, you can't imagine living anywhere else. Sure there is a big crack in the ceiling, but the house is solid, you're sure of it. No, the bathroom isn't big enough for one person, let alone two, but you don't mind brushing your teeth in the hallway. You love the house, and barring any major structural issues, you're going to buy it. It's an emotional connection that is much like the one you might have with a love partner.
And that's what makes this whole process so challenging. We loved our old house. Really loved it. The closets were inadequate, the basement was a disaster, the kitchen was so small that I could make dinner and reach all the pots and pans, the stove, the sink, and the kitchen door without moving my feet, but we adored the feel of the place, the moldings, the hardwoods, the tile, that wonderful raspberry foyer. And we won't be happy until we find a place that makes us feel that way again. And the house we offered on makes us feel that way. So on June 1st, we'll plan to move into our rental house while we wait for a house to come on the market that is just right for us. It's not the plan we had, but what's that saying about when we make plans, God laughs?
She's probably rolling on the floor over this one.
So the hard part has turned out to be the easy part. We sold our house, we moved everything out (only one storage unit this time as opposed to five the last time we moved!), and we're officially not homeowners right now.
So now what is supposed to be the fun part, the easier part, has turned into the hard part. We cannot find a house to buy. We made an offer on a spectacular house, one I still hope we will get, but the owners had to take it off the market due to some challenges, so we had to start over. The day we saw that house, I walked in and fell in love. Actually, that's not true. I saw it online and fell in love, much like our house here in Burlington. I could imagine us having Christmas dinner there, eating breakfast in the kitchen, sitting on the front porch. I still can, which is why I haven't let go of the dream quite yet.
But we do need to find a house to buy, and since the earliest this house will be back on the market, if it ever does go back on, will be September, we are still looking. But we are very limited in terms of where we want to buy, and what type of house we like, which makes it tough in a town of 10,000 people where the housing inventory is, well, nearly nil. We drove up to Mt. Airy yesterday to look at what online appeared to be very much like our house here, but brick and with a full front porch.
The house itself was about 80% there as far as the way it looked and felt. Great floors (all pine, which we know from experience is not ideal), high ceilings, plaster walls (I would have to install picture rail moldings, but I love those), a good-sized kitchen (without a dishwasher or disposal, in need of lots of updating), nice yard, five bedrooms, odd baths (a corner shower was installed in the middle of the floor of the upstairs bath), nearly non-existent closets (but a full basement). Lots to love, lots to work with, but there was this feel in the neighborhood, not helped at all by the snarling dogs next door, their fence butting right up to the property line, which was just a driveway's distance from the house on that side.
Rick and I talked a lot about it on the way home, and we agreed that house hunting is a lot like dating. You go out on a date, and the guy is nice-looking, polite, confident, pulls your chair out for you, laughs at your jokes, doesn't smell, but there is just something that bothers you about him. You sit and eat and talk, and the whole time you're thinking, "What is it?" There isn't anything obviously wrong, but you just feel a little bit antsy. When he takes you home, you hope that he won't try to kiss you.
And then you go out with someone else, but this time, you think he's gorgeous despite the fact that his teeth aren't perfect, you pray that he'll kiss you even with that weird moustache, and you find it charming that he seems nervous. You just don't care. You notice, but you don't care, because when you're sitting across from him during dinner, you just know that there is something special, something that just feels right. On paper he might not be up to par with the date you had last weekend, but in your heart it's a whole different story.
And that's how it is to buy a house. Yes, the walls are smooth and the kitchen is updated, yes the bathroom is nice and the basement is dry, but if there's no spark, if you can't envision yourself around the table playing Scrabble on a windy winter night, it just isn't the house for you, resale value and square footage be damned.
When you find the right house, you can't imagine living anywhere else. Sure there is a big crack in the ceiling, but the house is solid, you're sure of it. No, the bathroom isn't big enough for one person, let alone two, but you don't mind brushing your teeth in the hallway. You love the house, and barring any major structural issues, you're going to buy it. It's an emotional connection that is much like the one you might have with a love partner.
And that's what makes this whole process so challenging. We loved our old house. Really loved it. The closets were inadequate, the basement was a disaster, the kitchen was so small that I could make dinner and reach all the pots and pans, the stove, the sink, and the kitchen door without moving my feet, but we adored the feel of the place, the moldings, the hardwoods, the tile, that wonderful raspberry foyer. And we won't be happy until we find a place that makes us feel that way again. And the house we offered on makes us feel that way. So on June 1st, we'll plan to move into our rental house while we wait for a house to come on the market that is just right for us. It's not the plan we had, but what's that saying about when we make plans, God laughs?
She's probably rolling on the floor over this one.
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