Whirlwind

It has been hectic these past few weeks.  I certainly did not know that have an 'estate sale' had as much 'follow through' as it does.  You think when that chair, book, appliance or table was carted out of your living room, it would be the end.  No.  Not even a little.  People start asking you to deliver.  They want you to store an item for "...just a week... I promise!"  Some folks have a little buyer's remorse and even want to bring items back... No returns, baby!  We told those folks to bypass our house and head straight to the local thrift store!  Our 'stuff' was on a one-way trip out the door.  No give-backs!

The house was another story.  We had two offers on it - and a couple of seriously interested folks.

I have heard people say that. other than the birth of a child and the death of a loved-one, the most stressful moments of a person's life center on buying a home.  I have bought and sold two or three properties in my life and find the process to be rather straightforward and simple.  To others, this same experience becomes an ordeal to be endured...complete with self-imposed drama that I can only assume is designed to make the transaction somehow more 'meaningful'.

A few years back, a female friend of mine told my mother that childbirth was a 'rite of passage' for a woman.  I could only guess that my friend - who was admittedly not the sharpest tack in the drawer - has missed the fact that my mother was.. well, my MOTHER - and had some experience in the matter.  My friend talked of the pains associated with the blessed event and how it brings a mother closer to her child, bonding her with it in ways untold by science and reason. 

My mother, of the older generation of women and not prone to the child worship that is so prevalent these days, scoffed and said, "Well, I have had two sons.  For the first one, I had the long, drawn out labor and all of the pains and anguish you describe.  For the second, I got knocked out.  I went to sleep and woke up with a baby boy.  I am just as 'bonded' to both of them...and have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.  It is what you do with them AFTER they come out that forms the bonds you are looking for.. not the mystical pain of childbirth you are talking about."

My friend was literally taken aback.  This was heresy to her.  How could a fellow woman discount the 'modern' line of reasoning she had come to believe?  Heresy.

As we went through our experience with the first home buyer, I kept this story running around in my head.  The potential baroness of our land called Diane literally every..single.. day.  She wanted to know room dimensions, talk about decorating ideas and talk about the neighbors.  Mostly, she wanted to stress over the contract.  Every day, she had to be 'talked off of the ledge' and convinced that continuing the process was good and the 'right thing to do'.  Diane even had to remind her more than a few times that if she backed out of the deal, she would lose her earnest money check.  Never a threat, just a gentle reminder.

When we finally got her calmed down and got through the home inspection, we thought - let me stress the word thought - we were in the home stretch.  All we had to do is pilot the Neuroses Express through to the closing.  We were almost.. there.  Then came the septic inspection.

Of all of the things we felt might derail the process, the septic inspection was the least of our worries.  We had always 'treated it well' by never dumping bleach into the drain, only using the correct toilet paper, etc.  We have our gray water piped into the front yard to water the landscaping, so we didn't dump - pardon the expression - water into the tank for no reason.  This SHOULD have been a slam dunk, no brainer, easy A test. 

We failed.

Wanting to 'feel' every twinge of the experience, our potential buyer had come down to watch the septic inspector dig up the tank in the backyard.  As she stood there, asking deep and insightful questions (or not) about the process (she even made pictures), the inspector determined that we had a crack somewhere in our tank.

We talked over the potential remedies with the inspector, but you could see this was not going to end well.  After getting a few quotes together, we started to formulate a plan for replacing the tank and completing the sale.  Our buyer was spooked.  Her baby was defective.  The ledge was looming closer.

She jumped.

A week later, after several angered calls chastising us for not returning her calls over the Labor Day weekend (no, I am not kidding), she stormed into the title company demanding her earnest money check back.  Since you cannot transfer a property in Arizona without a passing septic inspection, she did have a valid point.  We could have pressed the matter as we had three quotes for tank replacement, but honestly, this crazy woman was just not worth it. 

I looked on my phone: 38 calls in 3 weeks from one number.  That is a heaping load of batshit crazy.

We are talking to the lady - an artisan chocolate maker in town - about the backup offer.

One more round... and then we are totally free!

Hangover

It has officially been one week since our sale.  A few stragglers have come in for the items that they could not take with them, but essentially everything is gone.

Over the past few days, Diane and I have found ourselves to be extremely tired... much like a long, protracted hangover.  The vacuum of our stuff whirling out of the house caused tremendous physical, mental and emotional stress.  We had been planning it for so long that when the sale actually happened, all of that stress took its toll.

Having your world put out there for everyone to see, evaluate, critique, acquire.... brings a certain level of stress that frankly I was not prepared for.  This is a small town and we knew the VAST majority of people who came to our sale.  Your world, exposed for evaluation.

...then there was the sale itself.  Would anyone come?  Would they buy what we had at the prices we evaluated it at?  There was a LOT of 'stuff' out there!

In the end, it was a tremendous success: emotionally and financially.  HOWEVER, it has certainly taken it out of us.  FORTUNATELY, the hangover is wearing off and we can get on with life... unencumbered.

The Echo of Life

The house echoes.  Slight movements create sounds that reverberate off of the empty spaces.  Artists call it 'negative space' - that which holds nothing, but defines 'something'. 

We have a lot of negative space.

One week ago, Diane and I literally sold everything. With the goal of simplification, we got rid of essentially everything we own.  Through this process, we came to a much better understanding of who we are, what we were and where we want to go.  Freeing up the baggage of the past - in a quite literal sense - unleashes quite a bit of emotion: some good, some bad.

We gave ourselves some guidelines to work with that forced us to have a hard line on what was to remain:

1. Only two suitcases full of clothes.
2. If you can't use it now, get rid of it.
3. If no one will buy it, give it away.

We knew we didn't need any of this; we just were not sure if our ideas could be realistically put into practice. 

Less is Always More

As we began to gather our material life to sell, we categorized, cleaned and appraised literally everything we own.  As we touched every part of our lives, old boy/girlfriends came out of hiding, bad decisions returned to haunt us and the voices of our family rang through loud and clear.  With all of that bad came the good.  Those moments when we picked up a picture that brought us back to an adventure past, a beach enjoyed or a person fondly remembered.

This process truly brought back the FULL range of emotions.

We were repeatedly asked, "Where are you moving to?" and "What's next?".  At first, I tried to truthfully answer them with, "I don't know."  Quickly I realized that most people cannot even imagine that level of ambiguity and it almost physically hurt them to try.  You could read it on their faces as they tried to wrap their minds around the concept.

I fell back on telling a 'little white lie' to soothe the masses.  When asked about the next phase, I came up with some stock answer of "Moving back to Mexico! Love it down there!"  The truth though, is far less clear.  I simply don't know. 

What I do know is that this frees up a weight.  It isn't a financial burden - though there is a monetary aspect to getting rid of everything - it is the emotional load that becomes overwhelming.  We are now free to follow whatever path is shown to us. 

The negative space is empty, that is true. 

The negative space is filled... with opportunity.