Still learning never to say “Never”

Shortly after my first husband (I call him “The Cheater” in my blog) and I bought our dream home, I got a phone call from a realtor fishing around for listings. He asked if by any chance we may be thinking about selling our home.

We’d been living there all of about two weeks, and I was still pinching myself I was so ecstatic about our beautiful house where we would live happily ever after. I vividly recall telling that realtor “The only way I am ever leaving this house is in a pine box!” Lo and behold, within 3 years of uttering that statement, the marriage itself was dead and buried, and I was having to sell our dream home, pack and move on.

Fast forward a few years to owning another home with my second husband, John. We searched for and settled on a solid suburban home in a nice neighborhood and spent the next nine years totally renovating it ourselves. We were convinced we’d never move so actually invested in a “50 year roof” that was gorgeous (looked just like cedar shakes but was “cem-wood” a wood/cement mix guaranteed to last forever), that cost a fortune. Then time moved along: the two kids went off to university, I turned 40 and had a cancer scare, and became severely dissatisfied with my career in government. To pursue my evolving dreams it became clear we’d need to downsize and move into town. Bye-bye to our only five-year-old 50 year roof!

We shopped carefully for a downtown condo; we bought in a steel and concrete high rise and completely gutted the 2 bedroom unit. Because we were convinced this would be our last real estate purchase and the home where we’d be able to “age in place” we spared almost no expense in designing and finishing the space. It took well over 4 months for our contractor and the trades to renovate a mere 1,000 square feet – felt like an endless marathon. I remember lying down on a bare mattress in the master bedroom one afternoon in mid-renovation and comforting myself with the thought: “At least this is the last time I will ever have to go through this. The renovation will eventually be finished, we’ll move in and never have to look back.” Ha!!

Fast forward once again. Now it’s April 2010 and a freak sewer back-up completely floods our condo while we are away in Mexico. The damage was devastating – hardwood flooring ruined as well as all the lower kitchen cabinets. Everything has to be packed up and moved to storage so the kitchen can be torn out and all the flooring torn up. The place now looks pretty much as it did 9 years ago – exposed rough concrete floors, no kitchen, with workers’ tools and equipment everywhere. It’s not my home, it’s a construction job site – again. We’ll be out of our home (living in a hotel) until sometime this summer.

This situation has helped to crystallize some of our thinking – we’ve been realizing we’re probably going to move on yet again. We have not enjoyed condo living and being part of a strata council situation. Once again, I had thought I was “set” and that’s proving not to be the case.

I grew up completely rootless. As a “Navy brat” our family moved every two years or so until I was 18. I’m realizing I’ve held this image or expectation of establishing a permanent home…but the universe has interfered with that at every opportunity. I need to pay attention to that. I wanted to get “there” and stay “there” (wherever “there” is, if it even exists). But I keep changing and evolving; and I’m realizing my living situations simply need to keep pace with, and reflect, wherever I am at in my life journey.

My new approach is going to be to consider whether a real estate purchase or home will suit me “for now” and into just the foreseeable future, and to drop the whole “We’re here, this is it, I’m never moving again” mindset.

I think a “Who knows how long this may be for!” attitude will serve me a whole lot better. I sure hope so.

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