My home at 1202 Fairview Avenue, Wilmington, Delaware 19809 is on the market to be sold.
It is NOT a House, as the Realtors would have you believe, as they try to have you empty it out for selling to a potential buyer.
"Remove personal effects" they say. " De-personalize the feel so others can envision themselves in your house", is the way they try to convince you to pack up your memories into cardboard boxes. Like throwing fine china into a dishwasher, as if there is no meaning to its fine quality and special-ness.
Box after box, out those memories and treasures go.
Into the garage for now, onto Craig's List to sell later, or perhaps we should donate them to Goodwill for other people to enjoy. Perhaps. Or , how about this? " I KEEP EVERYTHING! " screams my emotional, sentimental brain.
This is not a random house, I repeat. This is My Home.
See those rooms? My children lived in them, we had dinners together, we cooked meals, we ran after dogs and cats and grandchildren here. I even once had a white parakeet named Jude who flew the cuckoos nest, so to speak :-) .
I rearranged furniture a thousand times in these very neat rooms.
This room? The one we cannot call an official bedroom due to lack of a closet? It was a nursery, a single daughter's bedroom, a guest room and a son's hangout! My grandchildren painted the walls and ran upstairs to play with the toys here.
My life changed from that of a being a Pastor's Wife, Mother and Married Matriarch to one who endured painfully an unwanted Divorce, raising kids alone as a Single Mother, finding and maintaining a Full Time Job while raising wounded teens, to becoming a Blessed Grammy of 13 grandchildren in the last 19 years. NINETEEN years I have lived in this place, in this quiet suburb.
We have planted and cut down a Maple tree in that same amount of time! My Oak tree is bigger than any house on the street and it wasn't even here in 1996!
So it goes.
Selling the Home that I once thought would be my forever place to live.
I liked my neighbors and my knowledge of street activities and noises. I liked that the airplanes flew in certain patterns across the skies on their way to Philly airport, and the barges moaned their foghorns loudly as they lazied up the Delaware River in the fog. I liked that neighbors down the street knew me by my dog's names and not necessarily by mine; or even by my teenager's experimentation's with living, not judging but calling hello to me as I ran by.
My house is not selling.
Nobody wants my Home. 'Detaching' is the name of the plan .
Some days I feel fine about this, since I love my HOME and especially like sitting on the porches and watching the birds as they frenzy around feeding on mosquitoes and locust.
It's pretty satisfying to feed squirrels now that my son doesn't eat all the peanut butter anymore ! Who will feed them when I am gone?
On other days I get really angry, thinking how I could rearrange my life so that staying here was more affordable and reasonable.
The thing is, I KNOW in my head that God Himself walks before me and beside me and behind me . I KNOW He has all of this figured out and as of today, because He is God, and I am not, has allowed this waiting time to continue. I also KNOW that the right buyer is there , waiting to make this Home into their own. Maybe they don't even know it exists, and I do!
(well that thought just cheered me up actually)
It's just that I thought I was a Planner, an organized, self sufficient detail kind of gal. I do NOT like surprises and I abhor taking risks because it is too scary. The last big risk I took was getting married instead of finishing college. [It's ok, no need to comment][ I DO have a sense of humor, as God does!]
So here I sit, jumping up and out as potential buyer upon potential buyer traipses through my Home, tells the realtor it is "too much work" to buy and "not updated enough" for their taste.
My dog Louie and I have gone to the dog park, sat in our respective cages, and disappeared faster than the carpet can be shaken, to return and discover a canceled visit or negative comment.
We are not complaining!
We are just weary.
We need someone to tell us it will be fine and in a few months all the questions will be answered.
Or not?
Nice talking to you, Blogspot, whom I have missed.
See you next time.
