I left my first marriage without much in the way of cash resources so it took a few years in a rental condo before I had saved enough to buy a home. I will never forget the day I first saw the house that was soon going to be mine. A friend who was also recently divorced called to tell me about a house he had seen. It wasn't for him but he thought I might like it. He was right.
I was home with an awful flu but I dragged myself out of bed for an hour to tour the house. I instantly fell in love. A few weeks later the place was mine.
The house was a Craftsman style bungalow, in a great family neighborhood. The kitchen was recently remodeled and was bright and sunny. The hardwood floors gleamed! It had built in bookcases, a fireplace and (best of all) a great front porch. Did I mention that I fell in love with the place?
I cannot adequately describe the emotions I felt about that house. Just buying new towels for the bathroom was like bringing home a gift for a lover. Writing about that house still makes my heart race.
When I got married, I moved into my husband's house. His was the grander of our homes, so it made sense. Giving up my bungalow was incredibly difficult, but I was able to sell it to a nice young couple, which helped soothe me. But I never, ever stopped loving my bungalow.
Fast forward seven years. My husband Joe is retired and I plan to retire soon. We don't need a huge home with four bedrooms, 15 acres, and a pond. The term "downsize" appears often in our conversations.
I recently learned that my bungalow is back on the market. It is the perfect place to downsize. At first Joe agreed, but lately he has had a change of heart. He is just as emotionally attached to his home as I am to mine. Tonight I agreed to walk away from my bungalow. But I am really having a hard time with that decision.
Joe's house is just that - Joe's house. My house is just that - my house. Joe's house feels like a responsibility. My house feels like a gift.
Now what do I do?
Brian’s Biography
6 years ago
