Yesterday, something enormous happened. I closed on my first (and hopefully only) house. I did not necessarily think this was going to happen in the immediate future, but a string of events led me to be sitting across from a woman at a table with our realtors and arranging to purchase her childhood home (and handing over a check for more money than I ever expected to possess in my lifetime).

I tend to be a pretty sentimental person. Although I once had big dreams, in time I outgrew the idea that bigger was better and that new houses were the way to go. After being married and living in a house that never felt like a home and then retreating from that marriage and living in a “temporary” apartment situation for almost five years, I found myself, through the incredible generosity of my grandmother, who we lost this year, able to consider a home purchase. My plan was to buy in early 2017, but a house found me, and I found a relator, and the last two months flew by, and that is what led us to be sitting around that table yesterday afternoon.

The house that will become my home was built in 1949 and purchased into a family in 1953 who would own it up until yesterday. A marriage was built in my house. Family memories were made. Children were raised. And the woman who sat across from me yesterday gave me an enormous hug and told me that she knew I would love her parents’ house and even passed on to me the original deeds from their initial purchase that her sentimental side had held on to for all these years. She handed me the history of her childhood home. And now I get to make it my future.

This year has been a beast. There has been a lot of bewilderment and fear and discomfort as we have lived through the election season, and we have been forced to acknowledge some difficult truths. There has been a lot of loss…people I care about have lost spouses and parents. I lost my grandmother quite suddenly, inasmuch as the death of a 91-year-old can be sudden and unexpected. It has, quite honestly, been a rough year in the NICU…lots of sadness intermixed with some incredible miracles. I have learned a lot about myself…what I find important, what I am willing to put up with, what I need from other people, what I need from myself. I can’t say that I am sorry to see the year go.

But it also brought me home, to my little brick Cape Cod on the hill. The house has known love and has been loved, and I love it already. I look forward to many happy years living there.


One response »

  1. Congratulations! I recently closed on a house with a similar history—one family has owned it since it was built in 1969—and the matriarch of the family was so pleased to entrust it to my wife and me. Here’s to strong people and strong families and making new memories on their shoulders.

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