If you’re wondering where I’ve been of late, I haven’t given up writing my or reading YOUR posts.
“Busy” is such an understatement of my life over the last month.
It seemed like February would never relent in terms of rainfall, so when it finally did, in March, work began in earnest to get our house ready to put on the real estate market.
For three straight weekends, instead of my hermit-like habits that keep me indoors with books, TV, napping, laundry and such, Hubs and I have been cleaning up the yard (which is huge), pressure washing the exterior and preparing it for paint. The completion of the new roof, which was finished a couple of weeks ago.
Then our attention turned indoors which consisted of deep, deep cleaning, purging, and the moving of non-essentials to a storage unit.
I took photographs last Sunday, posted them on Facebook and Zillow on Monday, and by Wednesday evening, we had an offer on the table. By Friday morning, we were under contract and hope to close by mid-May.
I think we are all in a bit of shock. I expected to sell the house in a relatively short period of time. It’s a great house, it was priced to sell, and the market is pretty bare in this area. Not to mention the location is optimal. But having it sold in under a week? I was floored.
In addition to our personal busyness, the last 6 months of my professional life have heavily centered around the liquidation of a 25,000 s.f. furniture store that was filled to the GILLS with merchandise. Two public sales later, we are down to about 1,000 items and have been lotting it for an online auction to take place later this month. This involves a lot of driving (because it’s an hour away) and some long days of inputting data into the auction software.
In short – I’m tired. Beyond tired. And started feeling the effects of all the stress and long days yesterday afternoon when my body finally started pushing back in terms of the allergy attack it has apparently been postponing just in time for my birthday today!
Thankfully, other people are feeding me, my house is spotless, and I plan to spend the weekend doing nothing except just what I feel like. Which, ironically, is just that: NOTHING.
My parents bought me a beautiful birthday cake, and, this morning, my dad sent me a picture of it. And I burst out laughing. Nothing could be more fitting for this particular birthday.
I’ve spent the last 12 birthdays in the home that will soon be someone else’s.
When I met our buyer, I was touched to learn that she is a newly single mother of two little girls, making a fresh start in her life.
Reagan and I moved in to this home after her step-dad and I married and we, too, were starting a new life.
I see things coming full circle now, as we prepare to hand this special place over to someone else to make a home. And as we begin building something new for our family.
You see, in addition to being physically busy, my emotions have been all over the place from anxious to excited, weepy to elated, as I contemplate the changes that lay ahead for all of us in the next few months.
About 2 hours ago, the clock rolled over to 37 for me. Close to the age my dad was when we made our big move back home to Mississippi from Oklahoma after 11 years on the plains of the southwest.
Some people loathe getting older. My dad was never one of them, and I haven’t been either. I, like he always has, see another birthday as being another year closer to the best years of my life. Because, I can honestly say, while I might not have recognized them as such at the moment I was experiencing them, every difficult year has led me closer to the life I want and have been working with my husband and daughter to build for ourselves.
To see those years of growth, heartache, pain, joy, disappointment, uncertainty, and stubborness/resolve finally begin to reveal their fruits has been both humbling and exciting.
My life feels just like the cake, that apparently went through some horrific transportation disaster from the bakery. It’s a glorious mess, but, I am assured, that it tastes wonderful.
A year ago, I felt like so many things were impossible. But I dug deep, and I held on to what I knew was good. And right. There have been a lot of disastrous, messy moments of the last decade or more of my life. Changes that were not pretty from the outside, but made the moment I’m in now sweeter than if everything had always been easy.
And in the midst of all of the changes that my 37th year will hold, I will cling to those things even more – the lessons learned from the bad, and the faith that love truly never fails. I’ve seen the blessings that come from leaning into that mindset, and I plan to continue looking ahead, not back, at all of the joy that I know is coming.
Because I can already taste it. And while it’s been messy, it’s beautiful indeed. And sweeter than I could have ever imagined.